March to the Future
by Wild Goose 01
Summary: Flung back in time by a freak accident, three men fight through the Bloody Valentine War alongside their commander. Cast logic aside & kick reason to the curb: Section Nine's craziest team is going to war. An AU remake of Solid Shark's Birds of a Feather.
1. Chapter 1: We aren't in Orb anymore

Disclaimer: Gundam SEED is property of Sunrise and Bandai. Kenneth DiFalco, Sophia DiFalco and the Gray Demons are the creation of Solid Shark, used with permission. The TRVF-X51A Fianna's original form is the creation of Shoji Kawamori. The charecter of Saito is the original creation of Masamune Shirow and Production I.G. About the only thing I own is this idea, the Seburo M-11 pistol, and Jack David. This is a nonprofit fanfiction, written merely to entertain.

* * *

_Ten years ago, there was a war that engulfed the world._

_War has always been a part of the endless waltz that is human history. The blue planet that humanity calls its home has seen countless battles raging all over its surface. But this war was different. This was a war started in self-defense… that quickly became something a lot worse. This was a war where racism and bigotry reared their ugly heads, where the strong oppressed the weak. A war that was started in space, waged across the world, and finally ended in space._

_This was the war where the genie of GENESIS was unleashed: __Gamma Emission by Nuclear Explosion Stimulate Inducing System. A giant gamma radiation weapon first intended to propel exploration ships, later to defend the PLANTs from another Bloody Valentine, but instead twisted to fulfill a madman's dreams of genocide._

_The war was halted by a man both revered and reviled by both sides: the youngest recipient of the Order of Nebula, Patrick Zala's right hand man, ZAFT's top strategist… and the founder and leader of True ZAFT. His "Shiva Option" brought the war to a close, forcing both sides into a stalemate from which the only exit was negotiation, succeeding in his plan…and paying a terrible price to see it through._

_He was the pilot they called the Grimaldi Falcon: Commander Kenneth DiFalco, commanding officer of the Gray Demons, ZAFT's Ace of Aces._

_To us in Orb, the war was something that didn't worry us. We stayed out of the war, believing that we could remain neutral and unaffected by the war, that business would go on as usual. We hung on to that belief, clutching it with both hands, blinding our eyes with it, refusing to look at anything that might hint that our preconceptions were wrong._

_We were fools. And when the war came to our doorstep, it was then that we paid for our folly._

_Heliopolis was just the beginning._

* * *

_**March to the Future**_

_**An AU retelling of Solid Shark's Birds of a Feather**_

* * *

_Chapter 1: Guys, we aren't in Orb anymore…_

* * *

Orb Union, Underground Morgenröte Reseach Facility, January 25th, C.E. 80.

* * *

"Alright gentlemen, good morning, good morning! Step this way please! Have you signed your waivers? Good, good, place your mobile suits there, yes, yes, that's it. Now gentlemen, step this way as I brief you on the experiment we are about to undertake today-" 

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'd rather be doing our paperwork than hanging around for this mad scientist experiment."

"Orders are orders, Jack," said the leader, a tall black man with close-cropped dark hair and a quiet demeanor, wearing the uniform of an Orb Navy Lieutenant Commander. "Look at it this way: we're giving our Fiannas one last ride before they head to the boneyard."

"It's at times like this that I sometimes wish they weren't powered with nuclear reactors, Marcus," said Jack. Like many Orb nationals, he was of Asian descent, with short black hair that was liberally streaked with white, and he wore an identical uniform to his leader. "Then we could have kept them around and flown them here and there on joyrides. It would make a great conversation piece. _'And here's the variable fighter that I flew during the Second Bloody Valentine War…'_"

"You wouldn't be able to maintain it as a private citizen," murmured the last member. He was tallish, obviously Japanese, his left eye covered with a polymer eyepatch, his black hair in a military crewcut, rank insignia denoting him as a Lieutenant. "Replacement batteries alone would bankrupt you. As for the reactors, I'd prefer to fly a mobile suit that's equipped with a reactor. I've gotten very attached to using a beam smartrifle and VPS in the past six years."

"A man can dream, Saito. He can dream. It's our dreams which keep us going through this dreary world."

"Yes, but you're stepping over the line into delusional territory. Dreams and delusions are two different things."

"Gentlemen, come, come, this way! Please attend your briefing!"

"How did we get sucked into this again?" asked Snow rhetorically.

"The Astray girls are on holiday, Shiho's gone to spend time with Yzak who's making a visit from the PLANTs, Morgan, Alicia, and Nicol are at Orbital, and Rick's attending … something. Sophia has disappeared somewhere, last seen in company of Mu. None of the other pilots are senior enough for this. And the Major is spending time with his family, and gave orders not to be disturbed unless there was a war going on. That left us," said Jack, sighing. "Come on. Let's get it over and done with. I wanna hit a strip joint and get smashed."

"Y'know, Snow, whenever he starts acting responsibly, I feel great hope for him and the world. Then when he destroys that hope, it makes me glad to know I have a sniper rifle with me."

Snow's reply was to chuckle at the antics of his friends and comrades. After eight years spent working together, seeing combat side by side, and countless poker games, one tends to develop the ability to tolerate one's friends' idiosyncrasies…

Well, it's either that or end up killing them.

* * *

When it was first deployed in February C.E. 74, the TRVF-X51A Fianna was one of the best mobile suits ever fielded. Given the designation of Tactical Response Variable Fighter, it was a transformable mobile suit, highly agile in mobile armor mode, equipped with a nuclear reactor, N-jammer canceler and Variable Phase Shift armor. It was on the cutting edge, superior to anything that wasn't a Gundam, capable of standing up to Gundam-class mobile suits: Morgan Chevalier had used his Fianna to fight the three Zeta Project units to a standstill. It had been upgraded and tweaked over the years (the costs of constructing 24 Fiannas and the _Eldridge _had killed Section Nine's budget for C.E. 73-74, which _did_ force the issue, though it was also an exemplary mobile suit), but now, in C.E. 80, it was six years old and hopelessly out of date. It had been decided that for these three Fiannas, they would be used for an experiment conducted at an underground Morgenröte facility, where Orb scientists were experimenting with a new method of transferring matter through space. Small-scale mockups had already been tested. Now, they would try it with live people and active mobile suits. 

Chief Representative Cagalli Yula Athha might be in power, her position stronger than it had been in C.E. 74, and Unato Ema Seiran was long dead (and the Seiran family under effective control of Lord Michael Ove Seiran, formerly _Captain_ Michael Ove Seiran, former CO battleship_Tsukiyomi_, Orb Navy officer and Athha loyalist), but she could see the implications of this experiment. In her youth, she'd been a guerilla with the Desert Dawn guerilla group, and later a mobile suit pilot for True ZAFT, and had later flown in combat during the Second Bloody Valentine War. She was well aware of the tactical advantages granted by a device which could transport mobile suits anywhere instantaneously. So was Section Nine, who'd chosen 3 operatives to look into the matter… which was why operatives Marcus Snow, Jack David, and Saito had brought the last of Section Nine's Fiannas along for the ride. (Because, in the final analysis, the possible loss of three Fiannas was preferable to losing three of the new X21S variable fighters that Section Nine was now fielding, sentimental value regardless.)

So it was that the three pilots, prepped and ready, having changed out of their Orb Navy uniforms into slate-gray flightsuits, sat in the cockpits of their variable fighters, loaded for bear, and waited for the experiment to commence.

Then the world went white, and it would never be the same again.

* * *

Heliopolis, Colony Interior, January 25th, C.E. 71

* * *

To Snow, it was a flash of white and a blur of colors; he felt blue flitting through his flightsuit, yellow on his lips, and a tugging sensation in his gut and then it was over and he blacked out. 

Jack fared a bit better, managing to stay conscious throughout the twisting sensation and the feeling of being pulled apart into many pieces, and he groaned as he looked around at the underground- wait. His Fianna was drifting in air. That wasn't supposed to be part of the plan, it was resting on the ground when that white light swallowed it. It was so hard to _think_, what with the awful hangover he was feeling, as he groggily looked around.

_What the-_

And it wasn't inside the research facility. In fact, it looked a _lot_ like Heliopolis.

_Which was destroyed in the First War_… _Sweet Tester! This is impossible!_

Above him, beams from the Raptor Gundam's Death Blossoms lanced into the cockpits of two GINNs, leaving Matthew and Olor dead; both GINNs drifting limply towards Snow's motionless Fianna. Looking around, he spotted the signs of battle below: The Strike engaging a GINN and the Aegis in the area, the _Archangel _below…

Wait. Those GINNs… there was something weird about them… why were GINNs carrying missiles?

The pilot raised his visor and closed his eyes wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose. Something bugged him, but what was it? Something familiar…GINNs, missiles, Heliopolis… "_SHIT!"_ he snarled, wincing, feeding power to his turbines…

Right on schedule, as if they were mocking him, the limited computers in the bunker buster missiles activated, the missiles firing right at the central shaft.

_Tester, I understand I've been far from you, and that I need to return to the arms of Father Church, and that you will put a Test for each of us in life that we have to go through. But Tester, if you don't mind me saying so, this is bloody ridiculous. Especially if you've disabled my micromissiles._

Wincing and eyes squinted, and feeling really, _really_ sick, Jack swung his Fianna around and pointed it towards the missiles, feeding power to the turbines. The Fianna shot forward, like the fighter it was, and Jack glanced at his weapons readout, cursing. The four 18-cell micromissile pods he carried were inoperable, so he was left with just his beam gunpod. His finger tightened on the trigger, gunpod spitting green darts… and they all missed.

_What the hell happened to my targeting system? I had a good angle, so why the **hell **did I miss?_

"Jack, break right," said a cool voice, and Jack broke right as a thick green beam came into being, the blast from a beam smartrifle.

The Caladbolg beam smartrifle was one of the hidden tricks up Section Nine's metaphorical sleeve. Saito had used this weapon for years, and was intimately familiar with it. It was the ultimate mobile suit sniping weapon, highly accurate with a high rate of fire, powered directly by the Fianna's nuclear reactor. Using this weapon, Saito had single-handedly intercepted two thirds of the Operation Meteor drop force, as well as countless Kinetic Interdiction Strikes. Saito almost _never_ missed with his beam smartrifle. Jack would have bet all his money on Saito; he'd learned the hard way just how good the former mercenary was.

It was thus an understandable shock to see all of Saito's shots miss, as the bunker busters slammed into the colony shaft and detonated.

_Whatever threw us back into the past must have corrupted our targeting systems_, he realized with mounting dread. _We'll have to rewrite the OS, rezero the weapons manually…_

His train of thought was halted as Heliopolis collapsed around him.

"This is not a good place to be… Saito, Snow! Let's get outta here!"

"Help me check Snow's unit," said Saito, Fianna in mobile armor mode. "He's not responding."

"Damnit. Well, it could be worse."

"Oh?"

"We could be sucked out a hull breach."

"You mean like now."

"Oh_craaaaaaaap_-"

* * *

"The colony is starting to come apart!" Sophia DiFalco called to Murrue Ramius. "Those last hits busted something that _really_ shouldn't have been busted!" 

"Recall our mobile suits!" Murrue ordered. "Hurry! CIC, get an ID on those new units!"

Cracks were beginning to appear in the colony's outer wall, while the central shaft collapsed. "Raptor has already latched onto the ship," Natarle Bagiruel reported. "There's no time to bring him into the hanger, but he can ride it out from there."

"What about the Strike?" Mu "Hawk of Endymion" La Flaga demanded. "Is the kid okay?"

"He's being sucked out one of the breaches," Sophia responded. "And- oh, my word..."

The Bridge crew watched in stunned silence as the neutral resource satellite Heliopolis simply came apart around them.

* * *

"We're in trouble," murmured Saito, his Fianna in mobile suit mode, holding onto Snow's fighter mode Fianna. 

"Tell me about it," muttered Jack, Fianna also in MS mode. "How's your Caladbolg?"

"It's working, but the targeting system's been corrupted. I won't hit anything unless I aim manually. Micromissiles are also out. You?"

"Same here. Alright, what do we do? We've been thrown back into the First War, and I can see _Archangel_ and Raptor and Strike… whaddya think, Saito?"

"I think we need to join forces with the _Archangel_. Leaving aside the fact that our reactors are good for another four years, we don't have that much food and water, just enough for 2 days." His voice became even more serious, and he added, "And Snow may need medical attention."

"I know. Well, let's move in, nice and slow. I'll think of something to convince the Archangel crew we're on the level. And we'd better use fighter mode."

* * *

Heliopolis Ruins, Strike

* * *

Kira stared at the wreckage that had once been Heliopolis with something deeper than shock. He was paralyzed, barely breathing, by what he'd just seen._How... how _could_ they...?_

It took several minutes before he realized the radio was talking to him. _"Kira Yamato! Are you out there? Please respond! Strike!"_

He shook himself, and keyed the mike. "Uh, X105 Strike here... barely."

On the other end, Natarle sighed in relief. _"Glad to hear you. Are you okay?"_

"Yes," Kira managed, staring around again.

_"If you can move, return to the ship,"_ she said._ "Do you have our beacon?"_

He checked his displays. "Yes."

_"Then come on in."_

"Right." Kira paused. "Uh, did Falcon make it?"

Natarle snorted._"Make it? We're beginning to think the guy's invincible."_ She cut the transmission.

He sagged._Good... Maybe now I won't have to fight anymore... and even if I do, at least I'll have some backup besides Lieutenant La Flaga..._

The Strike's instruments suddenly began to beep, and Kira frowned. Tapping controls, he enhanced the section on his display from which the signal was coming. "A lifeboat? It must be from Heliopolis..."

Changing course, he charged after it. _Mom, Dad..._ he thought as he went. _You're safe, right?_

"_Strike, come in, say again, Strike, come in, over,"_ interrupted his radio, a transmission not from the _Archangel._

"Who is this?"

"_This is Black Card Team 01. We're with Orb NID, investigating foreign military activity in Heliopolis. One of our mobile armors is down, and we'd like to request permission to come aboard. Oh, and we know the Grimaldi Falcon. We'd be much obliged if you'd pass that on to your ship. Go ahead and grab that lifeboat first, civilians take priority in SAR jobs."_

* * *

Bridge, _Archangel, Heliopolis ruins_

* * *

"The Strike should be on its way back, Captain," Natarle reported. "I still can't see him in the debris, but I was finally able to contact him. No sign of those three unknown units." 

"Good," Murrue acknowledged, smiling in relief. "Keep me posted, and keep an eye out for them."

"Well, that's one detail taken care of," Mu commented. "Now we just have to figure out what to do next." He raised an eyebrow. "You... think they'll come after us?"

"They will," Falcon said, exiting the lift. "Rau will not give up now, not after all the trouble he's gone to so far... not after what he's learned."

"I agree," Murrue said.

"Which eliminates several options, and provides us with another set," Sophia mused. "We _could_ just blast right through them..."

"Obviously you're not used to this line of work," the one-eyed pilot said with a snort. "We have two G-weapons and the Zero; Rau has _four_ G-weapons, with a demonstrated willingness to use them."

"Maybe we could outrun them," Mu suggested. "The _Archangel_-class mobile assault ships are pretty fast, or so I hear. And then there's those guys in those mobile armors; they tried to stop the missiles, so maybe they'd be willing to help us?"

Murrue shook her head. "The enemy's _Nazca_-class is a swift vessel as well; there's no guarantee of us losing them, even with a decent head start."

"Correct," Falcon agreed. "In fact, our _failure_ to escape would be virtually guaranteed. And we cannot count on assistance from outside parties we know nothing about."

"We could always surrender..." the Hawk said slowly. "Much as we may dislike it, it _is_ an option, you know; though of course I'd rather not..."

"If you were to choose that course of action," the ex-ZAFT ace said softly, "I would be obliged to first step out an airlock without a suit."

Sophia gasped. "You don't mean that!"

"I certainly do." His one-eyed gaze swept over all of them. "Understand something: I will _die_ before I allow my former comrades to get their hands on me. I know they would do that to me for my treason... but only after they interrogated me. I know too much, and I won't allow ZAFT to get hold of any information I may carry."

She stared at him, and started to speak, but Mu raised a hand, forestalling her protest. "I see," he said. "Well, I wasn't seriously considering it anyway..."

_But,_ he thought,_ I wonder why you reacted so strongly? Your sister may say you have all the warm feelings of a brick, but it's obvious you can feel fear... and that kind of hate I'm getting from you isn't exactly cold._ Mu distinctly recalled Falcon's cryptic explanation of his motives for leaving ZAFT._ What is it you know, or did? What could make_ you,_ of all people, betray ZAFT?_

He knew he wasn't going to get an answer to that question, at least not yet.

"So what _do_ we do?" Murrue asked, after a few moments of uncomfortable silence. "We can't give up, we can't run away, and I don't think we can just hide here till they go away. We could fight... but they have four G-weapons, to our two G-weapons and a mobile armor."

Falcon stepped forward. "In difficult ground, press on. In encircled ground, devise stratagems. In death ground... fight."

Murrue frowned. "Sun Tzu?"

"The Art of War," he confirmed. He looked Mu right in the eye. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Mu?"

The other pilot slowly smiled. "We're in encircled ground, aren't we? So, what do you recommend, Grimaldi Falcon?"

"A deception, Hawk of Endymion." Falcon stroked his chin._"Archangel_ has decoys, correct?"

"Right," Sophia acknowledged. "So?"

He gazed at the main display. "Here's what we do: first, we-"

Natarle's voice interrupted him. "What did you say? On whose authority?"

Murrue turned to look into CIC. "What is it, Ensign?"

"The Strike has returned, Captain," Natarle replied. "But he's carrying what appears to be a Heliopolis lifeboat, and wants to bring it aboard! And if that wasn't enough, he's letting those three unknowns follow him in! They're claiming that they know you, Commander DiFalco, but that they aren't ZAFT or Earth Forces. They're claiming to be an Orb Union Navy Intelligence team."

Falcon's eye turned to her. "And the problem is?" he said in a dangerously quiet voice.

She returned his non-expression with a glare. "In case it slipped your notice, Commander DiFalco, the _Archangel_ is top-secret military technology. We can't just let civilians and foreign intelligence officers come aboard-"

"A little late," he retorted. "Kira and the others are already here; and in case it slipped _your_ notice, I'm a former ZAFT pilot. And while I'm cautious about those three unknowns, the fact that they tried to shoot down those bunker busters is a point in their favor. Furthermore, if they're members of Orb's Naval Intelligence Division, they have a right to be here, particularly if they were investigating the Earth Forces presence in Heliopolis."_But they claim to know me personally…it could be someone using a cover, but who is it? Shiho's been assigned to an R&D unit, Sparky's guarding Siegel Clyne, Tom's building _Arkbird_ and_Asmodeus_, Leanne's with him… Uzumi's people, perhaps?_

"But-"

"Put it on the main screen," Murrue interrupted with a sigh. "I'd like to talk to them and find out what their intentions are."

"As would I," agreed Falcon, as Natarle reluctantly typed the necessary command and a communications window appeared, revealing an Asiatic face with dark eyes and a face set in a quiet frown.

"_Earth Forces vessel,_" he began, _"This is Lieutenant Commander Jack David of Black Card Team 01. We're with Orb NID. I asked your mobile suit to pick up that lifeboat and a disabled mobile armor, and I'd like to request permission to bring my team aboard your ship. Our transport was destroyed in the collapse, and one of my men needs medical attention."_

"You're quite trusting, for someone who's just seen one of his country's space colonies collapse," remarked Murrue almost-casually, and David snorted.

"_Hardly, Captain. But I'm aware that on your bridge is the Grimaldi Falcon, and if there's one thing certain about Commander Kenneth DiFalco, it's that he's on the side of those whose cause is just. Besides, it was the Le Creuset team GINNS armed with bunker busters who collapsed the colony. Captain, I'm willing to propose a truce. Both of us need to get to Earth: you'll want to get that ship to where she'll be useful, while I need to report to my superiors. Until we reach orbit, I suggest we work together, then go our separate ways. Our chances of survival increase with our cooperation. We await your decision. David, clear."_

"Captain, surely you can't be considering allowing them to land!" exclaimed Natarle. "Their presence aboard this ship would jeopardize our mission and-"

"He looks really unhappy," said Mu, from his bulkhead spot. "I'd say at this point, he doesn't really care about any missions or top secret details, he just wants medical attention for his wounded man. And even if they're flying mobile armors, that still gives us some help against the Le Creuset team. Not much, but some."

"Don't forget, Ensign," said Falcon quietly, "that it was the Earth Forces who violated Heliopolis' neutrality. We have a moral responsibility to take them aboard. And if they decide they have nothing to lose... the bridge doesn't have Phase-Shift Armor."

"But-"

"Give them permission, Natarle. We don't have time to argue over such petty matters," Murrue ordered sharply, when it looked like the ensign would protest further. "Just give them permission, so that they'll land and we can get underway. We could use all the allies we can find."

Natarle looked sullen, but obeyed nonetheless. "As you command, Captain."

Falcon turned to the viewport, watching as the Strike brought the lifeboat and the disabled mobile armor towards the _Archangel_, the other two fighters following in the Strike's wake, sensors set to passive and targeting systems shut down, navigation lights blinking. They were coming in as non-threateningly as possible, well aware that the path they were taking had them in range of Igelstellung CIWS turrets and Gottfried beam cannons.

But something bugged him about the three mobile armors, fighters that looked like a hybrid of Flanker and Hornet...

He floated there for several moments, his mind spinning, processing the information and trying to puzzle out what it meant, only to be interrupted by Mu.

"About our plans. You were saying, Falcon?"

Seemingly unperturbed, Falcon went on calmly, "I was saying that we first need to choose a destination, before we can make any detailed plans. Given where we are... I would think Artemis would be the best choice -and perhaps only- choice."

"Artemis..." Murrue murmured thoughtfully.

"The Eurasian base with the light-wave barrier, right?" Mu scratched his head. "You're probably right about it being the only place in range, especially since we seem to have a small supply problem. But we may have another problem: _Archangel_ doesn't have recognition codes to identify her to any of our allies."

"At this point, a relatively minor concern, I think." Falcon frowned. "What concerns me is that intelligence reports I read before my desertion indicated that an unmitigated jackass named Garcia is in charge there, and he likely _would_ try something... untoward, if only to strengthen Eurasia's -and his own- position."

The Hawk disguised an aborted laugh as a coughing fit, but it was hard. That description of Garcia -whom Mu had heard things about, none of them good- would probably have been amusing under any circumstances, but coming from someone who spoke so tonelessly... _I could _swear_ that guy has a sense of humor..._

"I suppose it'll have to do," Murrue decided. "Though we should probably be cautious. Now, what was the rest of your plan?"

The one-eyed pilot took another look at the display. "First of all, Artemis is just about the last place ZAFT forces would expect us to go. They'll expect us to head for the Ptolemaeus Base, on the Moon... not realizing we haven't the supplies to make it that far." He began to pace -or attempt its zero-gravity equivalent, at any rate- still thinking. "Bearing that in mind, we launch a decoy -with my knowledge of _Nazca_-class detection systems, I can make it all the more believable- on a logical course to the Moon. Then, while_Vesalius_ hopefully heads off after our decoy, we point ourselves in the direction of Artemis, run the engines long enough to gain some decent speed, and then cut them off, using inertia to cross the remaining distance."

"A silent run, in other words," Natarle remarked, coming up out of CIC. "I like it, Captain."

"One thing, though," Falcon cautioned. "Rau isn't stupid; I highly doubt this will fool him. But it might buy us some time; and remember, he doesn't operate in a vacuum. He has to give the opinions of his subordinates _some_ weight, and he also has to consider what'll happen if he's _wrong."_

"Then we'll go with it," Murrue decided. "Falcon, Sophia, you two get to work on modifying the decoys; but first, I want you to take a detour down to the hanger, see how things are going with Kira, that lifeboat, and the Orb NID team."

"Got it, Murrue," Sophia acknowledged, casting a glance at her brother; who, for his part, merely nodded, not revealing the distaste he felt at the notion of having to work with his sister.

After the pair had left, Murrue rubbed her temples. "You know, I think having both of them on the same ship is going to be a _real_ headache."

Mu nodded, smiling slightly. "I'll grant it'll be interesting." He raised an eyebrow. "So, you go way back with those two, huh?"

"Yeah." She settled back into the command chair. "Sophia was a classmate of mine at the Academy -this was, of course, before the Alliance was formed- my roommate, and my best friend. I had occasion, during those years, to meet Falcon. He was just a kid back then, but smart; and not somebody you wanted to irritate." She smiled in memory. "He was about nine at the time, I think, but already into the martial arts; not quite at the brick-breaking level quite yet, but good enough to make potential attackers lose interest."

"Hm." The Hawk scratched his head. "Was he much like the Falcon you met earlier today?"

"Not in the least," Murrue said emphatically. "A bit quiet, but in the manner of a budding intellectual, not a cold-blooded warrior; and-" She broke off, frowning. "That's odd."

Mu tilted his head. "What is?"

The frown deepened. "I don't remember him having brown hair..."

* * *

_Archangel_, Hangar

* * *

Once again, security team members were waiting, rifles pointed at the trio of slate-gray mobile armors that had entered the hangar. Kira Yamato's Strike helped set Snow's motionless Fianna into an empty bay, before setting down the lifeboat beside it. With the ease of long practice, Jack and Saito parked their mobile armors on either side, popping the hatches; Saito remained in his cockpit while Jack jumped out, "swimming" to Snow's cockpit, working the emergency release and checking the vitals of the unconscious pilo 

"Well, looks like he's out cold," sighed Jack. "Which means that I'm in command. Oh boy."

"Don't worry, Jack. If you get any urges to abuse your position, I'll just point my rifle at you."

"Alright, both of you! Hands in the air!" ordered the security team leader, rifle pointed at the two Section Nine pilots, and Saito gave Jack a flat look from his open cockpit.

"Now would be a good time for some of your fast talking." Engaging his cyberbrain communications, Saito mentally added, _::Try and distract them from shooting. I'll cover you, but this isn't the best place for a firefight.::_

"Copy that." ::_I'll distract them, just get your sniper rifle ready.::_

_::Too long to put it together. I'll use the Seburo.::_

_::That works. Okay, showtime, buddy. Here we go.:: _

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," said Jack carefully, removing his helmet and tucking it under his shoulder. "There's no need for the weaponry you're pointing at me. I'm not going to shoot you guys, and I really don't think your Captain will be happy at an international incident caused by Earth Forces troops shooting an Orb Navy officer. Besides, that would preclude us all getting to know each other and enjoying a friendly game of poker."

_:: You're the most mercenary poker player I've ever met, Jack.::_

_::Saito, you take the pot more times than me.::_

_::That's because you don't have a poker face. Hmm. There's Flay Allster, getting off the lifeboat. Looks like history is proceeding more or less as I remember. Have you figured out what we're going to do after this?::_

_::We really need a council of war, get together and plan what we're gonna do,,::_replied Jack. _::With great power comes great responsibility, or so some 20__th__ century philosopher postulated. Look sharp, here comes The Major.:: _He watched carefully as Falcon and his sister approached, Jack's body language relaxed and confident, a contrast to Falcon's cold inscrutability and the visibly radiating Sophia..

"So," began Sophia, "just who are you?"

The Section Nine pilot drew himself to attention and saluted. "Lieutenant Commander Jack David, serial number Delta-four-six-zero-two-one-four-eight-six-zero-nine. Current assignment: Black Card Team 01, Orb Navy Intelligence Division, investigating foreign military activity in Heliopolis." His lips curved slightly, as he added, "Permission to come aboard ship?"

"Permission granted," responded Sophia, returning salute. "Lieutenant (Senior Grade) Sophia DiFalco, Earth Forces, and this is-"

"Commander DiFalco, the Grimaldi Falcon, former commanding officer Gray Demons," said Jack, saluting again, the gesture sharper and crisper than before. "It's good to see you again, Sir. It's been a while."

"Lower your guns, troops," ordered Ken quietly, and the security team reluctantly lowered their weapons. "Orb isn't the enemy."

From inside the cockpit of his Fianna, Saito likewise safed his Seburo C-26A PDW, and his face relaxed slightly as the medical team arrived to the hangar. He looked at Jack, who met his gaze and nodded; the one-eyed sniper slung the PDW over his back and kicked off from the cockpit, coming to a stop beside Jack and saluting. "Lieutenant Saito, serial number Sierra-four-three-zero-nine-two-five-seven-zero-six-nine. Current assignment: Black Card Team 01."

"I see," began Sophia (she didn't, but there was no way she was going to admit that). "And your wounded pilot is…?"

"Lieutenant Commander Marcus Snow, my XO. He seems to be concussed, but I'd like the doctor to take a look at him, just to be sure." He looked at both DiFalcos, and added, "I guess we get changed and then go to see the Captain?"

"Of course," said Falcon, gesturing for the Section Nine pilots to go before him, as they retrieved their duffle bags and floated towards the ready room. As Jack and Snow floated before him, he turned around to look at the trio of mobile armors parked beside the lifeboat: a new type of mobile armor, nothing like the Mobius or the Mobius Zero. These mobile armors resembled conventional atmospheric fighters, their design hinting of a heritage stretching back to the twentieth century AD, with angled canard foreplanes set behind the cockpit, vertical stabilizers canted outwards, oversized engine pods, micromissile pods carried on underwing hardpoints, and a gunpod under the nose. Yet it was only as Falcon left the hangar that he realized what had been bugging him about the three mobile armors.

They were painted slate gray.

_Gray Demons_ slate gray.

* * *

Bridge, _Archangel_

* * *

"Greetings, Captain Ramius, Commander la Flaga, Commander Badgiruel. I'm Lieutenant Commander Jack David, and this is my wingman Lieutenant Saito. Sorry about the coveralls, but these are what we use as Class Cs when on an investigation mission," said Jack cheerfully, smiling at the_Archangel_'s officers, having changed from his flightsuit into slate gray coveralls with a black flight jacket (which had been hastily sanitized of all Section Nine insignia). He couldn't help it. Sure, they weren't _exactly _the same people he'd served with, befriended, and played poker with, but seeing the familiar faces lifted his spirits. 

Then he realized what he'd just said, and blinked. _Oops._

"I'm just a mere Lieutenant, sir, and I think the Ensign's off-kilter from her abrupt promotion," grinned the Hawk easily, and Jack grinned back, covering his stumble.

"Even in Orb, we've heard of the Hawk of Endymion. There's a betting pool on when the Earth Forces brass will get their asses in gear and promote you: sooner or later, La Flaga, you'll be a Lieutenant Commander. And the lowest rank a member of the Badgiruel family has ever achieved was Lieutenant Commander, so there should be no reason why the Ensign can't equal that achievement. And please, call me Jack. No need to stand on ceremony among pilots." He leaned forward conspiratorially, and added, "How about a wager between pilots? I'll bet you a hundred bucks that you'll be a Lieutenant Commander by Valentine's Day…"

Mu laughed and extended his hand, and they both shook on it, and Murrue sighed, shaking her head amusedly. Natarle wasn't so sanguine, but whatever she might have said was cut off by Saito's quiet voice.

"Let's put our cards on the table and deal," he said, casting a glance at Jack and Mu, both of whom straightened up and leaned against their bulkheads; Falcon was sitting on the ceiling, cross-legged. "Right now, we should be discussing what our plans are."

"We were planning on heading to Artemis," said Murrue. "Falcon and Lieutenant DiFalco will be modifying one of our decoys and sending it on a course to the Moon; hopefully, _Vesalius_ will chase after it, allowing us to make a silent run to Artemis."

"I see," nodded Jack. "That makes sense. I take it that you're hoping to resupply at Artemis, since you don't have enough supplies to reach the moon."

"Precisely. It's not a perfect plan, but it's the best plan we have."

"There are always tradeoffs," murmured Saito. "And there are always unforeseeable situations…"

"That sounds like one of Falcon's sayings," commented Mu, and the eyepatch-wearing sniper chuckled lightly.

"Not exactly," he replied. "There's precedent for this sort of thing, isn't there?"

"Actually…" Murrue and Sophia looked at each other, a shared glance that spoke volumes. "It's been done before, but not many times."

"Oooohkaaaay, I think our success predictions just took a hit," winced Jack. "Still, long shots are better than nothing – and you have Strike, Raptor and the Zero, right? That _should_ be able to hold off _Gamow_'s MS team, worse comes to worse, if Le Creuset deploys them to try and head you off while he goes off chasing your decoy." He shared a meaningful glance with Saito, and sighed. "Our Fianna mobile armors aren't fully combat ready; the targeting computers are suffering data corruption and need a software reinstall and rewrite, followed by manually rezeroing our weapons, and I doubt we could squash all the bugs before Le Creuset shows up. On the other hand, a Fianna does happen to be more survivable than a Moebius… and all I'd really need to do is just head out there, make a nuisance of myself, draw enemy attention and then stay alive long enough for Raptor and Strike to settle the bandits, and maybe fire back a few shots to get their attention. Worse-case scenario, though, is that Le Creuset figures out what we're doing and catches us in a pincer; we'll really be in trouble then. But I guess before we can worry about that, we need to get settled…"

"Well, then, let's see about integrating your team into our order of battle," said Murrue, and the first joint Earth Forces-Orb (and one former ZAFT ace) mobile weapon wing was born.

* * *

_Archangel_, Hallway, 30 minutes later

* * *

As he stepped out from the bridge, his pocket computer beeped, and Falcon made a quick scan of the hallway, before ducking into a corner to check the message he'd received. What he read surprised him. 

_Snow Team reporting for duty to True ZAFT Commander Kenneth DiFalco. Request permission to make sitrep ASAP. Urgent intel affecting Shiva Option outcome and Lion of Orb discovered. Must speak to you face to face. Also, doesn't Leanne use witchcraft to make e-rats taste so good, and how's your heart – got enough batteries? And Shiho still has her crush on Yzak, doesn't she?- Jack David_

Falcon narrowed his eyes at the email, his mind sorting probabilities and plans. It had been proven again and again that mobile armors were inferior weapons compared to mobile suits, which was why Rear Admiral Lewis Halberton had started the G-Weapon Project, aimed at creating mobile suits to counter ZAFT's trump card. But Jack had been confident that the Fianna mobile armors could hold off G-units, which meant that there was more than met the eye to the slate gray fighters, which meant that they could be useful assets if he could incorporate them into his battle plans.

He recognized the references in the last two sentences. Among the Gray Demons, it was a common joke that Leanne Eldridge was the only woman who could make emergency rations taste good, and that the only way she could do so was through witchcraft, a joke started by Sparky Cooper. His eyes narrowed at the second statement: few outside ZAFT knew that he had a replacement battery-supplemented heart – not even Uzumi Nara Athha knew of his heart. But what was that about Shiho having a crush on Yzak Joule?

At any rate, Black Card Team 01 was well informed about his activities, for a unit supposedly investigating military activity in Heliopolis. His mind sorted through the possibilities and probabilities, but Falcon knew that to get to the bottom of this, he would have to talk to them.

* * *

_Archangel_, Sickbay

* * *

Saito knew when Jack had received the reply. The intelligence officer/pilot had a habit of cocking his head to the side when reading emails with his cyberbrain, eyes losing focus as they stared into the distance, before they refocused and he turned to Saito, who was already getting up. _::Where do we meet the Major?:: _he cybercommed, wary of possible surveillance. 

_::Your habit predicting people's thoughts with a single glance is getting annoying::_ replied Jack, as he turned to gaze at the unconscious Snow, strapped down to a bed in sickbay, quickly jotting something on a piece of paper. _::We're to meet him in his quarters. I'll leave a note for Snow in case he wakes up, and then we can go.::_

_::And just how are you going to convince him you're on the level?::_

_::Simple. I tell the truth. And don't say anything about how the truth is incompatible with me, just because of my gift of suckering people into bets that they end up losing.::_

The two pilots 'swam" through the _Archangel_'s corridors, arriving outside Falcon's quarters, and stood still momentarily, looking at the hatch in silent contemplation, a silence broken only by Jack's wry observation: "Well, we sure aren't in Orb anymore…"

Saito chuckled and extended his hand to press the hatch intercom button; before his finger made contact, the hatch slid open, and Falcon beckoned them to enter. The hatch slid shut behind them, and both Section Nine operatives came to attention. "Snow Team pilots David and Saito, reporting to the Major," said Jack formally. "Uh, I mean, Commander DiFalco."

_::That was smooth.::_

Jack chose to ignore Saito's sarcasm.

Falcon watched them for a while, his gaze piercing. "So you aren't really with Orb NID."

"Nope," said Jack. "Though Saito and I are Navy Reserve officers, that's merely part of our cover. We're with the non-affiliated counterterrorist unit known as Section Nine, established after the First Bloody Valentine War to fulfill much of the same role True ZAFT will fulfill during the Shiva Option." He met Falcon's gaze head on, adding, "Section Nine will be commanded by an ace pilot from True ZAFT's ranks, a man hand-picked by Commander DiFalco to lead the organization succeeding True ZAFT; operating under the codename of 'The Major', he will be in the forefront of Section Nine operations during the Second Bloody Valentine War and in the dismantling of LOGOS, the body that's pulling the strings behind Blue Cosmos. The Major's skill in battle will be equaled only by the Grimaldi Falcon… because _you_, Sir, will be the Major. But that's next year.

"I know of GENESIS, Sir. I know of Shiva Option Three, of the roles that Lance Cooper, Tom Delaney and Leanne Eldrige are playing in the PLANTs, constructing _Arkbird_ and _Asmodeus_. I know the details of almost every battle the _Archangel_ will be forced to fight from now until Second Jachin, where GENESIS will be destroyed."

"As to how I know all this, it's a simple, and admittedly unbelievable answer. We're from nine years in the future."

"I assume you can prove this," replied Falcon, reading their body language.

In response, Jack turned around and folded down the collar of his jacket, revealing the cyberbrain input/output socket embedded at the back of his neck. He took out his pocket computer and a small cable, and plugged the computer into the socket, turning to face Falcon, his eyes unfocused as he transferred data from his cyberbrain into the computer. His computer chirped as the data finished transferring, and he unplugged it, handing it to Falcon. "They say a picture is worth a thousand words; if so, actual battlefield data recordings must be worth a few hundred thousand words then."

Falcon took the pocket computer, a model he recognized as an evolution to his own computer, and began sifting through the data, his expression unreadable to Jack and Saito. He was thoughtful as he absorbed the images and video recordings of the ZGMF-X00 Preybird in action, a mobile suit he intended to use to complete the Shiva Option.

A mobile suit that existed only as a concept within his mind.

The articles on the Bloody Valentine War were in-depth and well-researched, particularly the excerpts that Jack had picked out from Jess Rable's book on True ZAFT, far too in-depth to have been fabrications, including True ZAFT's Order of Battle (and here he raised a mental eyebrow, seeing Andrew Waltfeld listed as one of True ZAFT's ship captains). The presence of the _Odin_ and Rear Admiral Lewis Halberton in True ZAFT's ORBAT gave him a momentary lightness in his heart; he'd known Lewis Halberton when the older man was still a mobile armor pilot, prior to the attempted blockade which had seen both of them on opposite sides.

_That reminds me. Lewis owes me ten bucks and a new machine gun,_ he thought, keeping his face still. _Must not break cover._

The next file he looked through gave him pause. It was a picture of a group of pilots, wearing slate gray flightsuits and black flight jackets, three of whom were wearing red-hilted katanas with their flightsuits, save for the figure in the center of the photo, wearing a gray coat over his flightsuit. His eyes swept through the sea of faces, some familiar, some not, eyebrows rising fractionally seeing Tom Delaney and Leanne Eldridge standing beside an older Ken DiFalco amongst the pilots, and zeroed in on three pilots standing together: Jack David, Marcus Snow, and Saito. _So they really were my subordinates_, he thought, reading the chilling photo comment: "_March 10th CE 73. __Section Nine pilots & Major__, prior to Junius Seven colony drop."_

If that wasn't short sentence wasn't bad enough, the last video file –appearing as if from a helmet camera- was of a giant gamma ray beam firing from a mobile asteroid fortress, one that he didn't recognize… but a fortress which screamed _ZAFT!_ to his instincts. He looked up from the computer, his eyes hard. "ZAFT builds _another_ GENESIS?" he demanded harshly. _And someone dared to drop Junius Seven on the Earth?!_

"Yep," nodded Saito grimly. "We were there. And we put a stop to it. And now we'll do the same again."

"Moment of truth, Commander," said Jack, determination present in his tone. "We didn't want to come back into the past. We were flung back because of a freak accident. We're adrift in time, with no way to get back to our timeline. And, well, we need directions. We aren't exactly setup for independent operations. We may not be your Demons, but we serve the same ideals. Your cause is our cause." He braced to attention, saluting in the ZAFT style.

"Commander DiFalco. On my authority as Snow Team XO, I hereby request permission for our team to join your unit."

Ken slowly lowered the computer, letting it float in zero-g, and slowly, formally, returned Jack and Saito's salutes. "We won't be operating with that name yet, but welcome to True ZAFT, soldiers. We'll start with a full sitrep of your unit."

"Yes _Sir_," responded Jack, fighting the urge to grin and dance a jig. "We have three TRVF-X51A Fianna transformable mobile suits parked in the hangar, in fighter mode. Each Fianna is powered by a nuclear reactor and an N-jammer canceler –they _did_ come from the future, afterall- and my unit and Snow's carry four 18-cell Firestorm micromissile launchers, 2 beam sabers and an underchin beam gunpod. Saito's unit has two Firestorm launchers, and replaces the gunpod with a Caladbolg beam smartrifle, essentially an uber sniper rifle. Our units mount Variable Phase-Shift armor; VPS is a postwar improvement over standard PSA, allowing greater flexibility and tactical options."

"You can reprogram VPS on the fly," said Saito. "I have a palette of camouflage options stored in my Fianna's computer; just hit a few buttons and I have an appropriate camo scheme for any mission."

"And if it's powered by a nuclear reactor, you could adjust it to be stronger than standard PSA," mused Falcon.

"Essentially, yeah," nodded Jack. "We're still not fully combat capable though. The freak accident that threw us back in time corrupted our targeting systems and wiped our driver data; we need to work on our units to fix the problems, and at this point, the only way we could hit anything would be to stay in mobile armor mode. Which will be a problem near Artemis."

"Explain."

"Well, as you know, Sir, Le Creuset is smart, cunning, and an utterly devious bastard," began Jack, assuming a lecturing position. "He'll make it look as if _Vesalius _is chasing Archangel's decoy, while he sends_Gamow_ to cut us off. He'll then turn around and catch us in a pincer. He'll have _Gamow_ cut off _Archangel's _line of retreat, while flanking us from our nine o'clock. This is what happened before, so it'll most likely happen again. Still… it should be possible to beat them off. _Archangel_ isn't lacking in weaponry, Kira Yamato will be the best pilot of the War, and we've got the Hawk of Endymion and the Grimaldi Falcon covering us. And two Fianna mobile armors… well, when we can fix our targeting systems."

Falcon nodded thoughtfully, his mind racing over the possibilities, as Jack retrieved his computer, plugged it into his neck socket, and began sorting for the Fianna's tech specs. "An implanted bio-computer?" asked Falcon.

"Pretty much," replied Saito. "Our cyberbrains have short-range commo capability, wireless net connection, improved memory storage and recall. Cyberbrains were a ZAFT innovation; they haven't really taken off among the public, at least not yet; most people using them are military. A good number of Section Nine's personnel have them; they get really handy." His eye widened slightly and he looked at Jack. The other pilot was oblivious to him, so Saito sighed, reached into his jacket, and drew his sidearm.

Section Nine's standard issue sidearm was the Seburo M-11, essentially a Seburo M-10 pistol rechambered for 11.43mm, the caliber that had been known ages ago as ".45ACP", the most successful pistol caliber in history. True, it only held 12 rounds in the magazine, compared to the twenty in a 5.45mm M-10, but each round was enough to put a man down. Each pistol, already reliable, durable and accurate, had been stripped down and rebuilt, painstakingly and meticulously, by the hands of Corporal Julio Poertena, Section Nine's eccentric Filipino armorer from the Equatorial Union. Each pistol was issued to its user and remained with the user for life (or as close as possible, given the inherent risk in Section Nine activity, plus the fact that the Earth Forces hated them). Saito's pistol sported a modification he'd asked for: an integral laser sight mounted under the barrel. He raised the pistol and turned on the laser sight, and a red dot appeared on Jack's neck.

One of Jack's problems, Snow had found, was that he could occasionally lose his situational awareness and get too caught up in his circumstances, too busy thinking to move or act (particularly when he was planning to sucker someone into a bet). One of the few things that could shake him was the feeling of a laser sight over his neck. None of them could explain his sensitivity to laser sights, but Snow had immediately designated Saito as the laser spotter to shock Jack back to reality.

Which is exactly what happened, as Jack started, and said, very carefully, "Saito, please turn it off."

"Got your attention," he smirked, before turning serious and tapping behind his neck. "Snow's got a cyberbrain, and the doc was looking him over."

"Oh _crap_," muttered Jack, and he bolted for the door. "Sorry, sir, permission to dismiss gotta leanupohcrapthisisnot-"

"Go," ordered Falcon, and Jack nearly broke the sound barrier on his way to sickbay. "He just realized that Snow has a cyberbrain and that Doc Hibson would have seen the sockets?"

"And only realized it when I waved my laser sight over him," agreed Saito, holstering his pistol. "I was a bit worried you were going cut my hand off again though," he added wryly.

"Your hammer was decocked and the magazine well was empty. I don't _like_ guns, but I know how to use them."

"Like the PSG-1 in your rucksack," agreed Saito, recalling his up close and personal experience of the antique sniper rifle. "In addition to what Jack told you, there's something else we need to decide about."

"Then let's hear it…"

* * *

_Archangel,_ Crew Quarters

* * *

"I wonder where the ship is headed," Kuzzey said, sighing. "Be nice if they'd tell us something." 

"The ZAFT forces are still out there," Sai pointed out. "I doubt they'll just let us go without a fight; not after all they've already done."

"They're intent on gettin' their hands on this ship, and those mobile suits," Tolle said pensively. "They wanted to do that even before Falcon turned up; and now that _he's_ here, I bet they're really mad."

Flay's eyes widened. "What? You mean we're in even greater danger than we would be on that lifeboat? Please tell me it's not true!"

"Would you rather be stuck on that damaged lifeboat?" Mir asked pointedly. "Besides, we've got a fighting chance. We all saw what the Strike can do, and Falcon's a ZAFT ace..."

The red-head turned to her. "But can we trust him?"

"We've all been asking ourselves that," Tolle informed her. "But you know... he shot down two GINNs out there today. He may not be happy with the Earth Forces, but you can bet he's not going back to ZAFT, either. He can't."

"And," his girlfriend added, "he's a good person. All along, I've felt he can be trusted; and everything he's done today has supported that."

"Hmm..."

"Would Kira Yamato be here, by any chance?"

The heretofore silent Kira looked up as Mu spoke. "Lieutenant?"

"Mr. Murdoch's got a little problem," the pilot informed him. "We don't have enough people to maintain both mobile suits, the Fiannas and the Zero... so you'll have to take care of your machine."

Kira blanched. "_My_ machine? Wait a minute! Since _when_ is the Strike _my_ machine?"

Mu smiled slightly. "Let's just say that's how things worked out. After all, we only have five pilots; and I thought you said you'd protect this ship?"

"That was for the battle in Heliopolis!" the Coordinator protested. "I never said anything about-"

"Maybe not, but the situation hasn't really changed, has it?" The Hawk sighed. "Kira, you have the power to make a difference, don't you? So why not put it to good use?" He paused, tilting his head. "And think about this: Falcon's arguments make as much sense now as they did a few hours ago."

With that, Mu left; and Kira was left with his own thoughts. "But..."

Shaking his head, he suddenly ran off. "Kira, wait!" Mir called after him.

Flay glanced around. "Hey, wait a second! So, _Kira_ was the one piloting that mobile suit? But... why? Is he like Falcon...?"

"No," Mir said emphatically. "He _is_ a Coordinator," she admitted, "but he was never with ZAFT to begin with. He's one of us, a cherished friend."

"Oh..."

* * *

_Archangel,_Hanger

* * *

One of Saito's most effective skills was his ability to read people's intentions by looking at their faces. For as far a he could remember, he'd always had this ability, which he had carefully and steadily honed as he went through life. It was a skill that he'd relied on in his career as a sniper, first for the Earth Forces, then as a freelance mercenary, and finally as an operative of Section Nine. (It was also _very_ useful in poker games, allowing him to see who was bluffing.) It wasn't an infallible skill –absently, he rubbed his eyepatch, where he once possessed a left eye, briefly remembering the events that had brought about his loss- and he'd been fooled before. But he didn't need this skill to read the troubled expression on the face of the brown-haired youth who entered the hangar. He stopped his work on Snow's Fianna, considering whether to speak to the teen, and then the decision was made for him, as he saw who entered the hangar after Kira. 

Kira Yamato stood on the walkway before the Strike, Birdie on his shoulder, his thoughts in turmoil. _I know how to pilot it... but that doesn't mean I can use it in battle... Why _me? he demanded of the world in general.

"Tough choice, isn't it?"

He spun around, to find Falcon floating in the air behind him with the ease of one long at home in space. "Falcon?"

The one-eyed pilot nodded at the Strike. "You know how to use it, but you doubt your combat skills... and you don't know if you want to use them if you have them. That's how it is, right?"

"Yeah," Kira admitted. "I know I flew it before, but... I'm not a soldier, and I don't _want_ to be one. I hate war, Falcon."

"So does any sane soldier," Falcon pointed out. "Me included."

The younger man's eyes narrowed. "So why'd you join ZAFT?"

The ace thought back. "It was the summer of 68," he recalled. "Not long after the Mandelbrot Incident, and ZAFT was first reorganized into a kind of militia."

Kira was familiar with the incident, of course: when space forces from the sponsor nations attacked a convoy carrying, among other things, food supplies for the PLANTs; a convoy including the _Mandelbrot_ herself, the ship after which the incident was named.

"I was young, idealistic, and maybe just a little stupid," Falcon went on. "Sophia had left years before to join the Atlantic Federation military -though I didn't know that till today- so my only remaining loyalty was to the PLANTs. So I signed up, wound up as a mobile suit pilot, and saw combat during the attempted blockade in 69." His voice hardened. "And I was there, at Junius Seven, and... Endymion."

"So you fought for your homeland," Kira said, nodding. "But what does that have to do with me, and why _I_ should be fighting?"

"It has _everything_ to do with it, Kira." Falcon looked him in the eye. "You said I 'fought' for my homeland. Truth is, I still am. What I'm telling you is this: to protect the PLANTs I had to do something I didn't want to do. To protect that which _you_ wish to protect, you may have to do something you don't want to."

"I know..." He sighed. "But there's something else..."

"Ah, of course." The pilot nodded. "You don't want to fight Athrun Zala."

Kira jerked violently. _"How did you know that?"_

If he didn't know better, he'd have sworn Falcon was suppressing a chuckle. "How did you think I knew who you were, when I first came to Heliopolis? Kira, when I was on medical leave following Endymion -never mind _what_ the injuries were- I taught a couple of classes at the ZAFT academy. While there, I met Athrun, and he mentioned you." The blue gaze sharpened. "And _that,_ Kira, brings me to the other reason you're needed to fight: you don't want to fight the Aegis' pilot... and I don't want to fight another of Rau's men."

Kira blinked. "Huh? Why not?"

Falcon rubbed his eyepatch. "The day before I deserted, a fellow by the name of Dearka Elsman was transferred to the Le Creuset team." He met Kira's eyes. "I have a strong suspicion he flies one of the stolen G-weapons... and Dearka happens to be my best friend."

The younger Coordinator nodded in sudden comprehension. _No wonder he's so cold,_ he thought. _I may have to fight Athrun, but Falcon has to fight his entire military... and _his_ best friend. I can't imagine what that must be like..._

Kira looked up. "So you're saying we need each other," he said. "I may have to fight your friend, and you... might have to fight mine..."

Falcon read the look in Kira's eyes. "I know, Kira. You don't want Athrun hurt, even if you don't have to do it yourself. Well, you can relax; I have no intention of shooting to kill if I can possibly avoid it. Except, of course, with Rau, and possibly Yzak Joule, if he's still with the team."

Kira sighed, relieved. "I see. But..." He hesitated. "What if... what if I...?"

"What if you have to kill Dearka?" The ace shrugged. "I don't think that'll happen in this battle, if it occurs. We'll be up against _four_ G-weapons, so I daresay we'll have our hands full just trying to hold them off."

"I guess you're probably right." Amethyst eyes turned to the Strike, while the mind behind them thought furiously.

Falcon simply waited patiently. As a longtime student of the martial arts, patience was something he had in abundance... and he had his own thinking to do.

_Dearka... you'll be out there, won't you? Will you be the first to try to execute me, amigo? I expect you to do your duty, as I would in your place... but I hope you'll at least hear me out first. We have much to discuss, you and I; and with my usual channels cut, I need information about the situation in the PLANTs. I need to know how much I need do with the Earth Forces... and I need to know if _it_ has been completed. Jack's information tells me that it isn't ready yet, but even he admits that his intel needs verification._

At last, Kira turned to face his fellow pilot again. "Okay," he said wearily. "I'll do it. We're the only ones who can protect this ship... and if you're willing to fight your own comrades, can I really do less?"

Falcon clapped him on the shoulder. "Kira, you have every right to sit this out; but it sounds like you're one of those guys who couldn't look themselves in the mirror if they had a chance to make a difference, and didn't." His cool voice took on a subtle, peculiar edge. "One piece of advice: don't think of this as fighting your own people. No matter what anyone else may say, those in the PLANTs are not 'your' people simply because they're Coordinators; what your genes look like is irrelevant. 'Your people' are those like Tolle, Mir, and the others: your _friends._ Remember that."

"I'll try," Kira promised. He tilted his head. "By the way, Falcon... why _did_ you desert?"

The single eye closed. "Let's just say that there are those in the PLANTs who desire more than simple independence... and I played a critical role in one of the projects meant to make their goals happen." His hand unconsciously stroked the hilt of his wakizashi. "With my absence, the plan will be having difficulties, but it is not enough; and so I strive for a balance, a stalemate. A way to bring the war to an end in a manner that grants independence to the PLANTs, but without the victory being so overwhelming that... Well, it doesn't really matter now." Falcon shook himself. "Well, I'd better get to the Bridge; I have the distinct feeling things are about to go wrong."

* * *

_Archangel,_Bridge

* * *

"I don't like this..." Mu murmured. "It's too easy." 

They'd been running silent for over two hours now, on course to Artemis, but something didn't feel right to the Hawk of Endymion. Something was about to happen... and he had the distinct feeling that it wouldn't be good. Their already limited combat strength had been depleted further by Saito launching in Snow's Fianna on a recon run; all the one-eyed pilot/intelligence operative would say was that it was intelligence business. That hadn't soothed Mu's nerves one bit; he had always been wary of intelligence types. (And mindful of Falcon's Lesson Eleven: "'Military Intelligence' is a contradiction in terms.")

"It is that," Falcon agreed, floating in his nook on the Bridge, where he'd parked himself. "Of course, it could simply be because of the sheer ludicrousness of Artemis."

Natarle glanced up in CIC. "What do you mean, Commander?"

"The Umbrella Shield," he replied. "The light-wave barrier. Certainly it's nice to have an impenetrable defense... but recall Sun Tzu's words: 'To unfailingly take what you attack, attack where there is no defense. For unfailingly secure defense, defend where there is no attack.'"

Murrue nodded. "In other words, Artemis is defending where there is no attack. After all, who cares about a military satellite at L3, of all places?"

"Exactly." Falcon shook his head. "We considered attacking Artemis, just after Endymion, but in the end we decided against it. Why bother?"

"Heat source detected!" Pal interrupted. "From nine o'clock!"

The pilot was at his side in an instant, examining the readings._"Nazca_-class," he reported. "That'll be _Vesalius,_ for sure."

Murrue closed her eyes. "They saw through our deception; but where's their _Laurasia?"_

"They probably split up, to cover us and the decoy," Mu mused. "They couldn't take the risk of letting us slip past."

Falcon frowned. "That sounds logical... but it's not right, I can feel it. Which means... not good." He straightened. "'So if you know the place and time of battle, you can join the fight from a thousand miles away.'"

The Hawk hissed. "It's a trap!" _Just as Jack worried – speak of the devil, here he is_, he thought, as the Orb pilot arrived on the bridge, visibly agitated and looking as if he'd swum a mile.

"Got here as fast as I could swim," he gasped. "It's Le Creuset , isn't it? He's caught us in a pincer."

"Yes." His future commander punched buttons on Pal's console, taking in the data that scrolled across the screen. "Got it. The_Laurasia_-class -looks to be the _Gamow_- is directly astern of us." His face tightened imperceptibly. "I knew Rau wouldn't be fooled, but I thought we'd have a little more time. Well, no help for it." He looked over at Mu. "Time to start planning how we're going to get out of this one alive, Mu."

"Right." Mu cocked his head. "The Strike?"

"We have a pilot," Falcon informed him. "Kira has agreed to keep flying it."

A relieved sigh. "Good. That takes care of one problem. Saito hasn't come back yet, has he?"

"Nope," replied Jack, floating over the tactical displays. "He can make it to Artemis on his own if he has to... but yeah, he isn't back yet. We'll have to do without him and Snow."

"Right." Mu wasn't too happy about that; even when they'd outnumbered the opposition, the Earth Forces had consistently lost engagements with ZAFT's mobile suits; when the enemy outnumbered _them_, things weren't going to go well for the _Archangel_ at all – especially when Le Creuset had four G-weapons to_Archangel_'s two. The Hawk glanced at Natarle. "Bring me a map of this area, will you? And Falcon: I need to know _exactly_ what a _Nazca_'s performance is."

"Right." Out came the ubiquitous pocket computer,s and Falcon started tapping keys.

Sophia looked at it curiously. "Just how much data is _in_ that thing, Falcon?"

"Plenty."

After several minutes of discussion, the rudiments of a plan had been hammered out.

* * *

_Archangel,_Cafeteria

* * *

The other four students from Heliopolis were sitting at a table when the pace began to pick up again. "Man..." Tolle sighed. "To think I thought this was going to be a normal day when I got up this morning. I never _dreamed_ anything like _this_ would happen." 

"I know," Mir agreed. "It's... it's like this is all a dream."

"Yeah." Sai idly cleaned his glasses. "I keep expecting to wake up and find this was all a dream. But I won't, will I?"

"Doesn't look like it," Kuzzey said gloomily. "Earth Forces mobile suits, ZAFT mobile suits, a new warship, a ZAFT deserter... I just can't keep up with all that's happening."

"And now it looks like the ship's about to be in a battle again," Mir whispered. "What's going to happen to us now?"

_"All hands to Level One Battlestations! All hands to Level One Battlestations!"_ The voice on the intercom paused._ "Kira Yamato to the Bridge! Kira Yamato to the Bridge!"_

"Yep, looks like another battle," Tolle said sardonically. "But... you think Kira's really going out there?"

"I hate to say it, but I hope so." Sai sighed. "Without him out there, our chances wouldn't look very good."

"But Falcon could handle it!" Kuzzey insisted. "He's a Coordinator too, and a ZAFT ace! Why does Kira need to fight?"

Mir looked at him reprovingly. "Kuzzey, Falcon isn't some kind of super-soldier; he may be a Coordinator, but he's still human. Besides, have you forgotten that he's going to have to fight his own comrades out there? It can't be easy for him."

"Right," Tolle agreed. He looked at his classmates. "You know... maybe we should do _our_ part. We were at a technical college; we know how things work. Maybe it's time we gave them some support, you know?"

There was no argument.

* * *

_Archangel_, Sickbay

* * *

Doc Hibson sat in his chair and pondered his dilemma, looking at the x-rays he'd taken of Snow's skull, shaking his head and sighing. 

"They don't pay me enough for this;" he muttered sourly. "People from the future. Computers implanted into the brain. Threatening a doctor in his sickbay. Rau Le Creuset chasing us. Heliopolis collapsing."

Doc Hibson was normally a rather easygoing good-natured person, but he could occasionally get stressed out, particularly around snow. The fact that his patient's name was Snow and he _hated _the white fluffy substance was bad enough, but then to find computer sockets in the man's neck and an implanted computer in the man's brain?

He had been ready to go to the Captain and tell her of this detail when Jack had barged into sickbay, frantic, and had begun his impassioned debate that could be summed up in four words: _"Don't tell the Captain."_

Hibson had immediately begun his own counterattack: he was a doctor, afterall, and doctors were well-versed in talking people into doing what the doctor said. (Nevermind that he hadn't succeeded in talking his sister out of joining the Marines). Jack had finally gotten him to keep quiet with one desperate statement: _"Please, Doc. If you tell the Captain, Falcon is going to cut you to pieces, and I don't really want that to happen." _

The doctor wasn't happy about having to throw in the towel, but he also knew of Kenneth DiFalco's reputation: the Grimaldi Falcon was not known for moderation where his mission was concerned – something aptly seen in his Lessons of War, as quoted by Jack:

Lesson Seventeen:_ "If the problem seems insoluble, sometimes all you need is a bigger hammer." _

Lesson Twenty-eight:_ "Anything worth shooting is worth shooting twice." _

Lesson Forty-two:_ "Better overkill than underkill." _

Faced with ample proof that his persistence would be rewarded with the separation of his body into smaller pieces, Hibson had given up on telling the Captain about Snow's cyberbrain (and that the supposed Black Card Team 01 were from the future), and was in the midst of deleting his reports (under Jack's agitated eye) when the announcement calling all hands to Level One Battlestations came in and Jack rushed to the bridge, leaving him with the last piece of evidence to destroy: Snow's x-rays.

"They don't pay me enough for this," he repeated, staring at the x-rays for a long moment, before putting them into his safe and securing all breakables and loose objects. Once done, he went and prepared sickbay, setting out his tools and drugs, bandages and blood packs, prepping medical equipment and making the beds. His task done, he sat down at his desk, and waited, hoping against hope that his services would not be needed...but ready nontheless.

_Archangel_ was heading back into combat, and no matter his qualms, when duty called him, Ranjit Hibson would not be found wanting.

* * *

_To Be continued…_

* * *

_Author's Notes:_ And thus begins my most ambitious project ever: an epic retelling of Solid Shark's _Birds of a Feather_. I'd like to thank Solid for allowing me this chance to place a new spin on his work, and to arekuruu-inabikari-no-She who was my beta reader. This one's for you guys! 

A few things that I'd like to note before I get lynched: Yes, the Snow Team/Black Card Team 01 have cyberbrains. Yes, those are from Ghost in the Shell. They're side charecters in Cry of the Falcon, Solid's sequel to BoaF. As Millenia Crescent already has a cyberbrain (check chapter 7 of CotF), and they're from 6 eyars after CotF, I figured that GitS-style cyberbrains should be starting to show up and become more common (though a cyberbrain computing revolution hasn't kicked off yet).

More of Saito's backstory is available in another fic of mine, _Beware the Left Eye_, which denotes his first meeting with Falcon.

And with that, I leaveyou for now. Fair winds and following seas, and I hope that you'll follow me as we go about this journey! - Wild Goose


	2. Chapter 2: Tattered Friendships

Disclaimer: As in Chapter 1, with one addition: I do not own _"Dango Daikazoku"_.If you have to ask, I probably don't own it. The _Odin_ is the creation of Deathzealot, and used with his kind permission. This is an AU retelling of Solid Shark's_ Birds of a Feather_; all charecters from _BoaF_ belong to him and are used with his permission.

* * *

_Chapter 2: Tattered Friendships, Stormy Encounters  
_

* * *

_Archangel, _Hanger

* * *

Four pilots floated into the hanger, two of them in Earth Forces flightsuits, the third in a gray ZAFT suit (freshly cleansed of bloodstains), the fourth in a gray Orb flightsuit. 

They drifted over to the Moebius Zero, and Mu La Flaga clapped a hand on Kira Yamato's shoulder. "Remember the plan, kid. And this, too: think only about defending this ship and yourself. Got it?"

The younger pilot nodded. "I'll try." _But it won't be easy..._

"All you need to do is to tie up Aegis, doesn't matter if you shoot him or talk to him," said Jack David, smiling encouragingly. "_Archangel_'s victory conditions are simple: we just need to survive long enough for the Hawk to drive off Le Creuset, and to reach Artemis. As long as you can keep Aegis tied up, and so long as I keep _Gamow_ and Duel focused on me, we'll make it. Believe in me who believes in you!"

Kira nodded, feeling a little better, and pushed off for the Strike, while Falcon pulled on his custom helmet. "So," he murmured. "The Falcon of Grimaldi and the Hawk of Endymion flying the same space again; but this time, the Gray Feather and the White Feather fight side by side."

"Birds of a feather, you might say," Mu agreed. "You sure you guys can handle those G-weapons by yourselves?"

"No," Falcon said calmly. "I'm never sure until I've done it; no plan survives contact with the enemy, after all. But I think we have a good chance."

"And you think this plan will actually fool Le Creuset?"

He shrugged. "Stands a better chance than the last one did." He lowered his visor. "Well, Mu, we'd better get going."

The Hawk nodded. "Right. Good hunting, Falcon."

"Same to you."

"Hey, what am I, chopped liver?" called an annoyed voice. In unison, both Mu and Falcon nodded and replied, "Yes."

Jack scowled and waved his fist at the aces, intent on showing his displeasure. "Hey, why don't you guys mention me? I've got the most dangerous job, y'know, playing decoy and drawing fire onto myself! Show a bit more appreciation!"

"Then you shouldn't have volunteered," quipped Mu, waving jauntily as Jack fumed indignantly, while Falcon snorted and pushed off for his own machine, contemplating the plan. His own actions were to be at his own discretion, since he was their only veteran mobile suit pilot (officially, at any rate). Sophia had volunteered to act as gunner, but her brother had coolly pointed out she couldn't hit the broadside of a barn with shipboard weaponry, let alone that of a mobile suit. She'd been less than amused, though Jack had been smiling mysteriously at the exchange. Falcon rather thought, however, that no one on the ship, besides Kira and Jack, realized just what he planned to do.

He'd shoot if he had to... but if it could be avoided, he'd use other tactics, at least against the pilot he felt sure would be out there.

The one-eyed pilot strapped into the pilot's seat, activated main power, and plugged the cable from his suit into the machine's generator. After what had happened earlier, he wasn't taking chances.

Within a few minutes, after the Zero launched -a launch hidden by the blast from one of the ship's positron cannons- the X107 Raptor was loaded into the _Archangel_'s port catapult. _"Connected to catapult,"_ a familiar voice said.

Falcon raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Miriallia? What are you doing up there?"

She smiled out of the screen at him. _"Hey, you and Kira are already going through a lot; we figured you guys could use some help, y'know?"_

He nodded, with the faintest trace of a smile. "The gesture is appreciated." He tapped a few keys on his instrument panel. "Now, shall we get down to business?"

_"Right. Attaching Sword Striker module."_

The Raptor, being essentially an up-rated version of the Strike, with a few new bells and whistles, was quite capable of using most Striker pack weaponry (except for the Aile package, but that was because one was already hardwired to the machine), including the mighty Agni hyper-impulse cannon. In this case, however, Falcon had opted to use only the Sword Striker's Midas Messer beam boomerang.

_Of course,_ Falcon thought idly,_ one thing they don't seem to realize -and Sophia seems to have forgotten- is that I also happen to be an engineer. If they did, they might be a little more circumspect in what they let me see... not that I intend to betray them. And that compared to the "outdated" Fiannas and Preybird, the Heliopolis G-Weapons are woefully obsolete._

But he _was_ making careful note of the new mobile suit technologies he'd come across here... and begun brainstorming about their possibilities, in light of what he'd learned from the Section Nine pilots, and how to improve these possibilities…

His musing was soon interrupted. _"All systems green, Falcon. You're cleared to launch."_

"Roger that." His hands tensed on the control grips, and his foot rested on the vernier control. "Grimaldi Falcon, launching."

* * *

_Gamow, _Hanger

* * *

Dearka Elsman settled into the cockpit of the GAT-X103 Buster with mixed feelings. On the one hand, he was looking forward to trying out his new machine in battle, and attacking the 'legged ship'; but on the other, he was quite likely about to face his best friend on the field of battle. And he still didn't understand. 

_Why, Falcon?_ he asked himself._ How could you betray us? You always said that everything you did was for the safety of the PLANTs, that _nothing_ was more important to you! So why fight us?_

Well, at least he wouldn't have to shoot to kill, at least not right away. Commander Le Creuset's instructions had been quite explicit.

_"Remember, this is the Grimaldi Falcon we're talking about," he'd said in the final briefing. "It's quite likely he set up the ruse we just penetrated, which he means he hasn't lost his touch. That makes him a dangerous adversary; but he is also one of ZAFT's heroes. I don't think the Supreme Council would appreciate it if we simply shot him down without even talking to him. Is that understood?"_

All of the team's G-pilots had agreed; but none of them had been particularly sanguine about the idea. Athrun looked distracted -though Dearka couldn't fathom why- Nicol had looked uncomfortable and just a touch scared, which made sense; like Athrun, he'd received some instruction from Commander DiFalco, and gotten thoroughly trounced in the simulators.

Yzak, now... Dearka suspected the white-haired pilot wouldn't hesitate to open fire on Falcon, orders or not. Fortunately for Dearka's peace of mind, though, Yzak wasn't in the Grimaldi Falcon's league.

He jumped when a voice came over his radio, from the _Vesalius._ _"Remember, Dearka, you're not to fire on the Raptor until I give authorization; but if I do, I expect you to follow orders."_

Dearka swallowed. "Yes, sir. Understood."

Le Creuset hadn't really needed to remind him. One thing he knew very well about Falcon was that even friendship was subordinated to his mission; he'd proved that the day Victor Tempest died.

Dearka forced himself to relax. _Almost time to launch; can't get distracted now._

"_Hey, Dearka, are you spacing out? If you are, I'll kick your ass!"_

Which was of course when Yzak Joule got on the horn.

* * *

Yzak Joule was loudmouthed, brash, spoiled, arrogant, prone to temper tantrums and obviously destined for greater things than being a mere mobile suit pilot. The first impressions he gave to people were of a young man with a severe case of self-interest, totally uncaring to the feelings of others. They would be half right. Yzak _was_ a rather self-centered person, and he didn't care much for what people felt. 

With some notable exceptions, that was.

The knowledge that Kenneth DiFalco had defected to the Earth Forces had shaken him, because he'd encountered the man at the Academy, and had been unpleasantly outclassed by the ace pilot. But he knew that if things weren't good for him, the situation was infinitely worse for Dearka, because Dearka had to fight his best friend.

Yzak kept it hidden deep down inside him, but he cared about his friends. True, there were only two people he considered close enough to be his friends (one was in this same hangar, preparing his mobile suit for launch, and the other in the PLANTs, in an R&D unit) but he _did_ care about them. He just wasn't comfortable with showing it.

_Oh, hell, I better get it over with_, he thought sourly, opening a channel to Dearka Elsman's Buster. "Hey, Dearka, are you spacing out? If you are, I'll kick your ass!" he called.

"_Yeah, I'm here,"_ Buster's pilot responded, more subdued than Yzak had ever seen him. _"What's up?"_

Yzak's intention was to cheer Dearka up, but he hadn't quite thought this far beyond opening a comm channel, and seeing his friend being so subdued made him pause for a moment. But only a moment.

"Are you alright?" he asked slowly, uncharacteristically quiet. "If you want, we can switch targets. You handle the legged ship, while I go after Raptor. My machine's better at close combat, and you have more guns to shoot that ship with." _And you won't have to shoot your best friend._

Dearka didn't miss Yzak's true meaning behind the offer, and while on one level he was tempted to accept, he refused to shy away from his duty. Victor Tempest had been Falcon's object lesson to ZAFT and the world that duty surpassed friendship. _And I have a better chance of getting Falcon to come back to ZAFT than Yzak does._

"_No, I'll go after Falcon,"_ said Dearka._ "I'll do better against him than you or those two. But thanks, pal. It means a lot to me."_

"Whatever," replied Yzak curtly as he killed the connection, clearly uncomfortable, and Dearka leaned back, a wry smile on his lips. _Same old Yzak. Can't admit what he's really feeling..._

* * *

_Archangel,_ Bridge

* * *

"Here they come," Sophia murmured. "I hope this works..." 

"As long as Lieutenant La Flaga can keep up his end, it should," Murrue told her. "And remember, Sophia: he's famous for making the impossible possible."

"So's Falcon, or so I hear," her friend muttered, emerald eyes flashing. "I hope it's true; but I still can't believe he joined ZAFT."

"I don't think complaining about it will change anything, Lieutenant," Natarle commented. "And I should point out such idle chatter can be very distracting in the middle of a battle."

"Yeah, I know..." Sophia said sullenly; she hadn't been in a very good mood since that morning, at Heliopolis. "I _have _been in a battle before, you know. Matter of fact, my brother nearly killed me at Jachin."

"Raptor's approaching the enemy machines!" Tonomura called. "Interpenetrating ZAFT formation now!"

"Time to see if the man can live up to the legend," Natarle mused. "If not, we may be in trouble."

"_Friends, comrades: Fear not! The infinite enemies are not a problem! They are unjust, outlaws! Against these foes we cannot lose! With faith and courage, zero percent becomes ONE HUNDRED PERCENT! DUEL! YOU THIEF! COME AND GET ME IF YOU'RE __**MAN ENOUGH!**__"_

Sophia smacked her forehead in disbelief. "_This_ is how an Orb pilot flies?"

"Uh, Ensign Badgiruel, ma'am?" began Sai, carefully, obvious dread in his voice. "I think we're in trouble now."

"Lieutenant Commander David," said Natarle icily, "What were you thinking?!"

* * *

Artermis nearspace

* * *

Bringing up the rear, Jack's Fianna was the last of _Archangel_'s mobile weapons to launch, the slate gray mobile armor easily and confidently taking up a position between and behind Kira and Falcon in Strike and Raptor, the point of an inverse triangle. Armed only with the undernose beam gunpod, Jack was the least-armed member of the small mobile wing, and at the greatest disadvantage… but you couldn't tell that from his confident challenge. He was totally secure in himself, even after Natarle had begun berating him, before he cut her off. 

"I dunno, I seem to have pissed off Duel enough to come after me," replied Jack, the grin in his voice audible. "Psychological warfare. I _am_ an intelligence officer, afterall. And I'd really appreciate it more if you'd call me "Jack Hearts". That _is_ my callsign, afterall."

He spared a quick glance at his tactical displays. Aegis and Strike were engaged, and Duel was vectoring towards Kira and Athrun. "Well, we can't have that," he murmured. "It's time for you and me to make our acquaintance, Yzak Joule."

Feeding power to his thrusters, Jack accelerated, bringing up his targeting systems and locking onto Duel. The targeting computer locked on and obligingly formed a pipper on the HUD, but Jack ignored the projected impact point display. Heliopolis had grimly shown him that his targeting algorithms had been corrupted, and he couldn't trust his computer to target for him. Ideally his Fianna's fire control computer would be working at full capacity, projecting a pipper predicting the impact points of his gunpod's shots. Ideally, it would fire only when he had a solid lock. It didn't have anything like that. Instead, it had Jack and the finest fire control computer in the known galaxy, the human brain.

The problem with using the brain as one's fire control computer, however, is that it is an absolute _bitch_ to program.

A fact proven most unpleasantly to him as his burst of green fire missed Duel completely.

_Alright, need to adjust some more for deflection and lead,_ thought Jack, frowning in concentration. He banked "up" above Yzak, twisted the Fianna, and came "down", gunpod firing again. This time Duel reacted by raising its shield, letting the green beams splash harmlessly into the anti beam coating, returning fire with the beam rifle. Jack's response was to corkscrew and barrel roll, still coming in towards Duel at full throttle.

"Come on, Duel! Is that the best you can do?" he called mockingly. "I best test pilots fly better than you!"

"Don't underestimate me, Natural!" snarled Yzak, boosting to the side and firing away. It was mostly even; the Fianna in mobile armor mode wasn't that much better than a standard mobile armor (in space, at any rate: atmosphere was a different story), and mobile suits outclassed mobile armors. But Yzak had only a few hours of stick time in his mobile suit, while Jack had been flying a Fianna for years. The Fianna flew through the barrage of fire, with nary a scratch, and Yzak fired his beam rifle's grenade launcher at Jack: the grenade flew forward and hit the Fianna's nose, detonating in a fireball.

And then the Fianna blithely flew on through the fireball, unaffected thanks to the active Variable Phase Shift armor, gunpod blazing at point blank range, scoring hits on Duel's shoulders and left arm, coming close on a collision course, as Yzak frantically fed power to his thrusters and boosted back and above…

The Fianna came close, almost recklessly, rotating ninety degrees, left wing poised to slice into Duel's body, as the pilot applied rudder and the fighter began to yaw to its right. That movement, combined with Yzak's climb, caused the wingtip to miss its intended target – the hips, "groin" and leg joints of the X102 – and instead gouged a ragged tear out of Duel's leg. Sweat dripped down Yzak's brow as Duel shuddered with the collision…

Then Jack flashed past him, cackling madly, laughing away. "How was that, eh?" he cackled, laughing. "Duel! You can never match me!"

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

"He's crazy," said Sophia flatly, as Jack's mad laughter echoed through the comms. "Completely crazy." 

What no one on the Archangel knew, however, was that inside his cockpit, radio set to receive-only, Jack's face was pale, he was hyperventilating and tears were running down his face.

"Oh, god," he laughed-cried. "What the hell was I thinking?! Trying to cut a piece outta Duel's leg? Trying to fly through the legs? _Who did I think I was, Edward Harrelson?!"_

Silence answered him: everybody was busy with their own problems. (And his radio was off.)

"Oh, well," muttered Jack, getting his breathing under control, briefly pushing his visor up to wipe his eyes. "Time for Jack versus Yzak, Round Two."

* * *

Artemis Nearspace

* * *

It had taken Falcon little time to determine who was flying what: while he had Jack's intel, he was also mindful of his own Lesson Eleven: '"Military Intelligence" is usually a contradiction in terms.' He didn't mind having an intelligence windfall, but he also wanted to confirm that intelligence. The X102 Duel was charging recklessly ahead, which indicated Yzak Joule was the pilot, and the Blitz was moving along cautiously, but with a degree of confidence: Nicol Amalfi. Buster, on the other hand... Buster was clearly hesitating. 

_Okay, then. It's time. The intel looks good so far._

Falcon carefully adjusted his radio settings, cutting the _Archangel_ completely out of the circuit, and switched to a ZAFT frequency he knew the Buster would likely be using; then he keyed his mike. "Hello, Dearka," he said calmly. "Long time no see, amigo."

Dearka's face tightened, hearing that voice for the first time in months. "Hello, Falcon." He aimed his gun launcher and beam rifle at the Raptor, but didn't arm either. "I wish I could say I was happy to see you."

"Same here, amigo." Raptor held a beam saber in its right hand, but like Buster's guns, the weapon was deactivated. "I imagine you've got a few questions for me."

"A _few?"_ Dearka barked a harsh laugh. "I guess you could say that, Falcon. Starting with why you betrayed us!"

Falcon winced. "You don't understand, Dearka..."

"What I understand is that you disappeared four months ago, and then you turned up on Heliopolis, where you killed your own comrades!" The confusion that filled the ZAFT pilot was coming out in a rush of anger. "What I _don't_ understand is how you could have done it in the first place!"

"Hear me out, Dearka!" Falcon snapped, in a voice he would never have let the _Archangel_'s crew hear. "There's a lot more to this story than you know; more than anybody knows!" He paused. "But first I have to ask you one question, amigo," he said, very softly.

Dearka's diatribe paused. "What?"

The words came almost in a whisper. "Have they completed GENESIS?"

Now he was_really_ confused. "'Genesis'? Just what are you talking about, Falcon?"

Falcon sighed in relief. "Good... If you've never heard of it, it probably hasn't been completed; which means they still haven't cracked the N-jammer canceller problem." _Which means that the timeline in the intel download Jack put together is still valid. But they'll crack the N-jammer canceller problem soon enough, with or without the Fiannas._

Dearka shook his head. "Just what in the world are you _talking_ about, Falcon?"

"You don't need to know, amigo," his friend said softly. _Not yet, not now._

Meanwhile, the Strike and the Aegis had come face-to-face, and Athrun keyed his radio. "Is that you, Kira?"

Kira flinched. "Athrun..."

"What are you doing here?" the ZAFT pilot demanded. "How could you join the Earth Forces? Why are you with the Naturals? _Tell me!"_

The Strike's pilot felt like wilting under his old friend's questioning. _Athrun, I..._ Then he rallied, remembering Falcon's words to him. "I'm doing what I have to do, Athrun! And I'm not _with_ the Earth Forces!"

Athrun paused. "What?"

"I'm fighting to protect my friends, Athrun!" Kira's hands tightened on the controls. "And wasn't it ZAFT that started this? _You_ attacked Heliopolis!"

"That's because the Naturals turned it into a target," the blue-haired pilot whispered harshly. _"They_ built those weapons there;_they_ violated their neutrality."

Elsewhere, Raptor and Buster circled each other. "Have you forgotten your own words, Falcon?" Dearka demanded. "What about Lesson Eight? 'Keep the faith'?"

"That's_exactly_ what I'm doing," Falcon replied. "Remember Lesson Twenty-Five? 'Once you have set yourself a task, do not abandon it. Even when continuing requires an action that makes your comrades call you traitor, persevere; for sometimes, the cost of failure can have consequences far beyond your worst nightmares.'"

"What 'task'?" Dearka demanded. "What 'consequences'? You're not making any sense!"

"That's because there are darker secrets in ZAFT than you know." The Falcon sighed helplessly. "Dearka, someday maybe you'll understand Lesson Twenty-Seven: Sometimes the right thing to do is not the right thing to do."

* * *

Artemis near space

* * *

Yzak Joule was prepared to admit that whoever this Natural mobile armor pilot was, he was good. Good enough that he wanted to know the pilot's name, or at least his callsign. In his own way, Yzak was coming to respect Jack; the other pilot had easily evaded each and every one of Yzak's shots, while scoring several hits on Duel; non-threatening hits, but hits nonetheless. 

Then Jack began singing. It wasn't _terrible_ singing per se; he was at least able to hold a tune in a bucket. No, it was the song he was singing.

"_Dango, dango, dango, dango, the great big dango family! The mischevious roast dango _**(Duel, this is you!)**_, the kind red bean dango __**(Hana-chaaaaaaaaaan, when are you gonna marry hiiiiiim)**__! Joining their hearts as one! The mother dango, the father dango! The Baby dango surrounded in love! The old geezer dango – __**Rau, that's you!**__ – squinting and glaring at everyone!"_

Yzak was actually aware of this song. In its original form, it was a song about dango, the sweet Japanese dumplings, and a metaphor for family; he'd heard her humming and singing this song when she thought he wasn't looking, and had paused, listening to her singing voice. That was the first time he'd felt strange aroundher, when before he could talk to her normally and comfortably. He'd never admit it to anyone, but he felt that _her_voice was what had made the song so memorable.

And so, he was incensed to hear Jack's version of this song, which took it and made a mockery of it, transforming what was a song about dango and family into a demented cross between a folk song and a martial march in rhythm and tempo, sung lustily like a bawdy drinking song.

"_Shut the hell up!"_ snarled Yzak, squeezing the trigger and sending another pair of beams at the slate gray Fianna. "I'm beginning to regret wondering who you were!"

"The name's Jack Hearts," replied the Orb pilot, cackling madly and cheerfully. "I'm the Black Jack of Hearts, the gentleman pilot! Life taker and heart breaker: That's me, Jack Hearts! Life is a game and I'm the player! _Dan-GO! Dan-GO! Dan-GO! Dan-GO!"_

"Stop mutilating that song!" screamed Yzak, not quite sure why it was pissing him off, but very angry at Jack. If he was better emotionally adjusted, he would realize that his mind associated this song with_ her_, and that he held a strong attraction to _her_. Yzak, however, was quite stunted in his emotional maturity, suppressing his emotions and feelings, which inevitably resulted in an emotional pressure cooker, with fits of temper being the only way his emotions could find release. As a result, all he understood was that Jack's singing was pissing him off, and the best way to stop it was to shoot him up.

Which was easier said than done, especially with Jack's ridiculous declarations.

"I know what you're thinking! _'To be happy, I'll shoot him down and shut him up!'_ It doesn't work that way, Joule! You want victory, you have to work for it! Men have eyes to look forward to the horizon, to the backs of those of go before them-"

"That makes no sense _at all_," scowled Yzak.

"-and powered by the true spirit of men, we carry on! Until this spirit burns in your heart, you shall never beat me! _Who do you think I am!_"

"A _nuisance_, that's what!"

"…now you're just being mean."

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

"Well, this battle is certainly... perplexing," Sophia commented to the air. 

"I'll agree with you there," Murrue murmured. "Just what is going on out there, anyway?"

In the few minutes since the two mobile suit forces had merged, virtually nothing had happened, as far as the _Archangel_ could tell. Aegis and Strike were circling, as were Raptor and Buster, while Duel was recklessly chasing Jack's Fianna (which was itself recklessly flying all over the place), taunts, screams and ridiculous declarations abounding, and Blitz alone went after the ship.

"Scrambled transmissions between Buster and Raptor," Kuzzey reported, from Communications. "I can't tell what they are, though."

Natarle frowned. "What could that be about? Unless Commander DiFalco _isn't_ trustworthy after all..."

"There's another possibility," Sophia said quietly. "Remember: Falcon was a top ZAFT ace. I'll bet there are quite a few people still in ZAFT that he knows, and some might even be willing to give him information; especially if he were to run into a former teammate. Or, more likely, the Buster's pilot isn't willing to shoot just yet, and they're arguing."

"But why scramble the transmissions?" Sai wondered.

"Mr. Argyle," Natarle said dryly, "if _you_ were a ZAFT pilot trying to convince an 'enemy' pilot to join you, would _you_ want said enemy's mothership listening in?"

"Oh. Right."

Sophia scratched her head. "But that still doesn't explain why _Falcon_ isn't firing."

* * *

_Vesalius, _Bridge

* * *

"We've confirmed the number of enemy units," a crewman reported. "Enemy force consists of two mobile suits and one mobile armor of unknown type." 

"And no Zero." Le Creuset nodded to himself. "The Hawk of Endymion's Zero must not be ready for sortie yet." He smiled. "I suppose my destroying his wired gunbarrels and causing the Grimaldi Falcon to finish off his linear cannon gave them some major problems."

"It's safe to make that assumption," Ades agreed. "Of course, we still haven't managed to _hit_ the legged ship yet, either."

The commander shrugged. "Hardly unexpected, Captain. Athrun has a... personal matter to deal with, and we all know why Dearka has not yet opened fire." He steepled his fingers. "But if something doesn't happen soon, I'll have no choice but to order them to engage the Raptor. Dearka can disable it if he wishes, but we cannot afford to have it remain a part of the tactical equation."

"Understood."

_But I wonder..._ Le Creuset thought._ Just where _are_ you, Mu? Are you, perhaps, in the gunner's seat of that machine? Or are you up to something?_

Any thoughts of Mwu being in the cockpit of the unknown mobile armor had been swiftly corrected by that most ridiculous peptalk/challenge; Rau made a mental note to have Intelligence try and ferret out who this Natural calling himself "Jack Hearts" was. If nothing else, he _was_ amusing, in a sad way.

* * *

Artemis Nearspace

* * *

"You're nothing but a pawn, Dearka," Falcon said, clenching his hands on his controls. "Don't you understand that Zala wants more than mere victory?" 

"How can you have 'more than victory'?" Dearka demanded. "The mission is the same as it was when you left: defeat the Naturals, and secure independence for the PLANTs!"

"No, amigo, that's _not_ the objective." Falcon's eye blazed. "The mission was originally to secure independence for the PLANTs by defeating the sponsor nations; _not_ the Naturals. You're generalizing, and not all Naturals are like my sister." He hissed. "But now, ZAFT's mission has become genocide, and _that_ is something I will not support!"

Not far away, Athrun and Kira were still arguing. "I don't _care_ who violated the neutrality," Kira shouted. "Heliopolis _was_ neutral, and so am I!" He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "You used to tell me you hated the whole idea of war, so why did you join ZAFT?"

"Because we're fighting for our lives," Athrun replied. "Earth started this, not us!"

A bright green beam suddenly flashed by, narrowly missing the Strike. "You aren't fighting, Athrun!" Yzak called. "Why not?"

Athrun blinked. "Y-Yzak?"

Kira paled, seeing his displays. "The Duel? Oh, no..."

The true battle had finally begun.

* * *

_Vesalius, _Bridge

* * *

Le Creuset sighed, seeing the impasse between Dearka and the Grimaldi Falcon. "We've no choice," he said regretfully to Ades. "Captain, order our pilots to begin offensive operations against the X107 Raptor."_It appears Falcon is committed to this course; pity._

"Yes, sir," the captain acknowledged. After passing on the orders, he added, "Should we request assistance from _Nacht Jaeger,_ Commander?"

The masked man considered that, and finally shook his head. "No, Captain; at least not yet. I believe Commander Huckebein is currently engaged in search and rescue operations at Heliopolis; important though it may be to stop the legged ship, we also can't afford to lose any more face by refusing to search for survivors in the rubble."

"Understood, sir."

* * *

Artemis Nearspace

* * *

_This is fucking annoying,_ thought Jack, snarling as another burst of beams went wide as Duel fired at Strike; the beam intended for Kira's cockpit narrowly missed him, a testament to his innate skill that allowed him to defeat Yzak's targeting computer. The same couldn't be said of the Fianna: Yzak was oblivious to the beams that missed due to the faulty targeting computer. 

Jack's plan had been to fire manually, ignoring his computer, but that was easier said than done: he wasn't the Grimaldi Falcon or Mwu la Flaga, with enhanced extra spatial awareness. And although he'd been a mobile armor pilot before (as much as a Heli could be considered a mobile armor), he'd also been used to having guns that tracked his target for him, needing just a lock; he'd scored kills in fighter mode during the Second Bloody Valentine War, but most of those had been missiles or mobile suits at a standstill, will a fully-operational targeting computer, not against madly dodging opponents. He'd scored a few hits on Duel… and plenty of misses.

_Well, screw this: if it wasn't hard, they wouldn't have sent us,_ he thought fiercely, angling his invisible mental gunsight over and to the left of Duel, squeezing the trigger, scowling as Yzak caught the beams on his shield. He hadn't met Yzak Joule until the Second War occurred, but he could see Yzak's raw skill, a harbinger of the elite ace he would become later in life.

"So much for the great plan," he muttered sourly. "Goddamnit Saito, _where in the nine hells are you?_"

_If the_ Odin_ doesn't get here soon, I'm gonna seriously start making holes in Duel and _Vesalius. _And Aegis, Blitz, and Buster, on general principles. There is only so much a man can take before he shoots back. If I don't get shot first,_ he amended, sending his Fianna into a series of wild evasive maneuvers that took him away from Duel, Strike, and Aegis.

"Seriously! Would it kill you people to _not_ be so goddamned trigger happy?!" he yelled at the stolen machines.

The response he received was a hail of beams.

"Guess not."

* * *

Dearka received the new orders, and winced. _It shouldn't have come to this... How _could_ it have?_

"You still there, amigo?" Falcon said softly.

The ZAFT pilot swallowed. "Falcon, there's no more time for chatting. I have my orders; and you have two choices: surrender, or be shot down."

Falcon, not realizing that by "shot down", his friend meant disabled and captured, simply shook his head. "Sorry, Dearka. But I can't do that."

"Then you know what I have to do."

Unexpectedly, the one-eyed pilot grinned ferally. "I'd be disappointed if you didn't, amigo. Do your best!"

But it wasn't Dearka that fired the first shot. Instead, Nicol's Blitz lined up for a shot with its beam rifle... and something happened in Falcon's head. His formidable spatial awareness told him something was about to happen; his Death Blossoms deployed, while he began to spin, beam saber igniting...

And the energy blade batted the beam aside.

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

Sophia stared at her displays in disbelief. "That's not _possible!_" 

Murrue sat there in matching shock. Raptor's beam saber had just _deflected_ a beam rifle shot... this while Falcon was still manipulating the Death Blossom system, using it to keep Buster under guard. "How did he...?"

Natarle blinked rapidly, as if it would make the impossible sight disappear. "No pilot is _that_ good..."

He obviously wasn't done doing the impossible. Even as he swatted another beam from the Blitz, the Buster finally got ready to attack... just in time for a series of Death Blossom shots to keep him busy.

Now Raptor and Blitz engaged each other with beam sabers, and Sophia shook her head in bemusement. _I had no idea even Der Schreckick Eins was capable of this... How is he _doing_ that?_

"What's the Strike's status?" Murrue asked, satisfied that, through whatever means, Falcon could take care of himself for the moment.

"Not good, Ma'am," Natarle reported after a moment. "He's got the Aegis and Duel after him right now, though the Aegis doesn't seem to be attacking. The Duel seems to be making up for any deficiencies in Aegis' offense, though. Commander David's Fianna is being repeatedly driven off by both Duel and Aegis; Aegis may not want to attack Strike, but it has no problems attacking the Fianna."

"Can we give either of them support?"

She shook her head. "No, Ma'am, not in that melee."

Murrue closed her eyes. "What about Lieutenant La Flaga?"

"Assuming all goes according to plan, he should be approaching _Vesalius_ now."

* * *

Artemis Nearspace, near _Vesalius_

* * *

"Now I've got you," Mu whispered. "Try this on for size, Le Creuset!" 

On _Vesalius_' Bridge, Le Creuset jerked upright, noting the familiar sensation. "Maximum thrust! Lower bow, pitch angle sixty!"

Ades glanced at his commander, not understanding for a few crucial seconds, until a crewman piped up. "Enemy below! It's a mobile armor!"

"Maximum thrust!" Ades barked. "Activate CIWS! Lower bow pitch angle sixty!"

_Too late,_ Le Creuset thought.

And it was. Grinning savagely, Mu increased power to his Zero's engines, slashing across space to the _Vesalius'_ underbelly at his own maximum thrust. The wired gunbarrels deployed, and they opened fire, together with his ventral-mounted linear cannon. _"Take this!"_

Damage alarms blared throughout the _Nazca_, and reports rang out, cataloguing the ship's wounds. "Damage to ventral hull! Main cannon output down fifty percent!"

Le Creuset snarled silently. _You'll die for this, Mu._

Mu La Flaga's Moebius Zero triumphantly pulled around and away, leaving his nemesis to lick his wounds._  
_

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

"Lieutenant La Flaga reports successful attack!" Tonomura called, unable to keep the triumph out of his voice. "He's now returning." 

Murrue smiled. "Then let's get them. Warn Lieutenant La Flaga to stay out of our line of fire... and arm the Lohengrin."

Natarle nodded, as pleased as anyone by their success. "Yes, Ma'am! Mr. Pal, charge assault cannons."

"Affirmative." Pal typed commands, and waited a few moments. "Positron banks charged, Ma'am. Ready to fire on your command."

"Lieutenant La Flaga has cleared the line of fire," Tonomura reported.

Murrue nodded. "Fire!"_  
_

* * *

_Vesalius, _Bridge

* * *

"Heat source detected! Antimatter stream, direction 000; impact in three seconds!" 

Le Creuset lunged out of his chair. "Hard to starboard! Evade it!"

The _Vesalius'_ evasion attempt was partly successful; one positron blast missed completely, while the other managed only a grazing hit. But a graze from an antimatter stream was still _not_ something you wanted to have happen to your ship.

"Damage to number three sodium wall; reactor output down, engine thrust down fifty percent."

Ades turned his superior. "Orders, Commander?"

Le Creuset cursed to himself. "Send out orders to retreat," he said through gritted teeth. "We've lost this round, Captain. Order our mobile suits to return at once."

"Yes, sir."

"Captain! Second heat source detected behind _Gamow_!"

"What?"

* * *

The new ship came out of the inky blackness of space, a ship looking like a one-legged _Archangel_, swooping down on _Gamow_, firing Sledgehammer missiles and Valiant linear cannons with gleeful enthusiasm, engines burning at flank speed. The surprise attack caught both of Le Creuset's ships off-guard: _Gamow_'s crew desperately tried to evade, and succeeded for the most part, but grazing hits from railgun cannons were still things you didn't want to have on your ship; _Gamow_ ended up sporting a number of holes in her hull. _Vesalius,_ already damaged from _Archangel_'s positron blast, bore the brunt of the Sledgehammer barrage: though her CIWS guns intercepted many of the incoming missiles, some still made it through. 

_Gamow_ would live to fight another day; the grazing hits she'd received weren't too bad. _Vesalius,_ on the other hand…

_Oh, yes, Mu,_ promised Le Creusetdarkly, as the damage reports began increasing swiftly. _You're going to die for this. _After_ I destroy that legged ship. I will grind your face in the knowledge that you have failed, yet again. Attack MY ships, will you? Damage MY flagship, will you? You. Will. **Pay**._

All he said, however, was a quiet, "It appears the legged ship is not as helpless as we thought." Both he and Ades knew how to read the battlefield: mobile suits were deadly against ships, but they were incapable of independent operation; without nuclear reactors, battery-powered mobile suits _had_ to return to their motherships to rearm and recharge. Even if their ships were lost, the Le Creuset Team's pilots could destroy the _Archangel_ and the new arrival, but it would be a pyrrhic victory: without _Vesalius_ and _Gamow_ to resupply them, the four mobile suits would drift helplessly in space, powerless…

And then Le Creuset had more things to worry about, as out of the shadow of the new arrival came a slate gray fighter, plasmaburners roaring, beam gunpod firing with greater accuracy than Jack's attempts, beams striking into railgun turrets and VLS tubes, explosions breaking out all over the _Nazca_.

Saito had arrived, and he had brought _Odin_ with him.

* * *

Kira, unaware of Mu's success or the new arrival, was still dodging around, trying to avoid Yzak's fire. The only good news was that Athrun still wasn't attacking (being focused on Jack), and Buster and Blitz both still seemed focused on Falcon, who was _well_ able to take care of himself. 

_Not that it helps _me_ any,_ he thought._ This is ridiculous!_

He tried firing at the enemy machine, but he was still too inexperienced, and hadn't gotten in any clean hits. Now he was beginning to run low on energy, which was very _bad_ news. After all, with no energy, he had no Phase-shift.

Yzak, meanwhile, was having fun... until he saw a text message on his display.**VESALIUS ATTACKED**, it read. **RETURN TO SHIP IMMEDIATELY**.

"The_Vesalius_ was hit? They're ordering us to _retreat?"_ Now he was angry. "But we can still win this!"

And so, predictably, he defied orders.

Dearka, on the other hand, received the new orders with something approaching delight. "Sorry, Falcon," he radioed, not sounding very sorry. "We'll have to finish this another day." Buster wheeled around, heading back for the _Gamow._ "I hope we don't meet again for awhile, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, amigo," Falcon whispered. "I know what you mean." If they didn't meet, Dearka wouldn't be able to carry out his orders... orders they both knew he _would_ carry out if he could, because neither of them could have it any other way. Dearka had his duty, and Falcon would be very disappointed in him if he didn't do it.

Blitz likewise broke off, but Yzak wasn't so ready to stop his attack on the Strike. "Stop it, Yzak!" Athrun said sharply. "We've been ordered to retreat!"

"Shut your mouth, you coward!" _You might not have the guts to fight, but_ I_ do,_ Yzak thought, mentally sneering at his teammate.

Kira was getting more than a little frantic now... especially when his rifle sputtered. "Oh, no!" It sputtered once more, and then died... along with his Phase-shift armor.

Yzak couldn't have been more delighted. "Now I've got you!" He drew both of Duel's beam sabers, and charged right at the Strike... and so did the Aegis.

Athrun, eyes wide with fear for his friend, converted the Aegis to mobile armor mode and rushed forward, trying to beat the Duel to its prize.

Falcon looked up sharply when his radio link to the Strike transmitted the telltale vibration sounds. "That's not good," the one-eyed pilot murmured.

Aegis' claws had grasped the Strike_.  
_

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

"The Strike has been taken!" Tonomura called out. "Phase-shift, down!" 

Murrue closed her eyes. _No... just on the brink of victory..._ "Now what do we do?" she whispered.

"We've got another message from the Lieutenant," Mir reported. "He says..." She frowned. "He says to load the Launcher Striker pack into the catapult."

Sophia's head jerked up. "Of course! Get a replacement energy battery out to the Strike, along with some heavier firepower... It just might work!"

"Do it," Murrue ordered.

_"Wait."_

She looked at the screen on her right armrest. "Falcon?"

_"One request,"_ the pilot said calmly._ "Send me a __Schwert Gewehr__, will you?"_

Murrue had no idea what he had in mind, but he _was_ the expert; he presumably knew what he was doing. "Very well. Ensign Badgiruel, have Mr. Murdoch load the Launcher Striker into the starboard catapult, and a Schwert Gewehr antiship blade into the port."

Natarle shrugged. "Yes, Ma'am." _I don't know if this crazy plan will work, but we don't have any other option, do we?_

Artemis Nearspace

The two G-pilots who had actually obeyed orders were now arrayed around the Aegis and Strike, along with the Duel; and _none_ of them were happy.

"What are you doing, Athrun?" Yzak demanded.

"We were told to destroy it!" Dearka added, obscurely pleased to have a legitimate target for his frustration. "You're disobeying orders!"

"If we can capture it, we're better off!" Athrun retorted. "I think the Commander would agree with me!"

"Athrun!"

Kira listened to the radio traffic with increasing confusion. "Just what are you up to, Athrun?" he asked, searching for some way out of the situation at the same time.

"I'm taking you to the _Gamow,"_ his old friend replied. "If you know what's good for you, you'll shut up till we get there."

"Get real!" Kira retorted. "I'm _not_ going on any ZAFT ship!"

"You don't have a choice," Athrun replied. "Unless... unless you _want_ me to shoot you."

The Strike pilot froze. _Athrun... It sounds like he means it... How did it come to this? How _could_ it? Why are you _doing_ this, Athrun?_

As if hearing his thoughts, Athrun said softly, "I already lost my mom in the Bloody Valentine. So I-"

A hurricane of projectiles and beams flashed past, as Raptor and the Zero dove in on them, both firing their wired gunbarrels, with Jack's Fianna supporting them, beam gunpod blazing away. "Mind if we join the party?" Falcon said quietly, directing his fire against Duel.

"Falcon? Lieutenant? Jack?" Kira couldn't believe it... not that he was complaining.

"Get clear, kid!" Mu shouted, pummeling Aegis while Duel sheltered behind its shield; under the pounding, Athrun soon had to release his grip. "The ship's sending out the Launcher Striker pack; don't miss it!"

"Right!" Without further questions, Kira turned the Strike around headed back toward the _Archangel_ at his best speed.

Mu and Jack trailed him, but Falcon played rear guard. He'd already received the Schwerht Gewerh, and now he raised it in both of Raptor's massive hands. "Sorry, Dearka," he called, "but I _really_ don't need you complicating things right now."

"Falcon, what are you-" Dearka began.

He broke off when the answer became obvious. Raptor darted the one side, and the fifteen-meter blade sliced down through both Buster's gun launcher and its beam rifle, while the Death Blossoms precisely targeted his missile launchers and blew them to slag.

"I suggest you go home now," Falcon said calmly, and rushed off to follow his comrades, leaving Dearka to stare after him in shock and sadness.

* * *

_Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

"The Strike is nearing the proper vector," Natarle reported. 

Murrue nodded. "Good. Things are finally starting to look up a bit."

That was putting it mildly; and Sophia, for one, suspected that without the teamwork displayed by their three pilots, they could never have pulled it off to begin with. _Der Schreckick Eins appears to be a success... and right now, I think I'm glad of it._

"Transfer control of the catapult to the Launcher Striker's computer," Natarle ordered.

"Yes, Ma'am."

Mir carefully watched as Strike's signal pulled ahead of the ship, carefully altering its course... until the vectors matched. "Strike is on profile, Ma'am!"

Natarle didn't bother to issue any orders. The catapult activated automatically, spitting the replacement Striker pack out into space.

* * *

Artemis Nearspace

* * *

Unfortunately, Yzak was not so ready to give up his prey. "You're not getting away from _me,_" he whispered, watching as the Strike jettisoned the Aile Striker, preparing itself for the approaching Launcher, and raised his beam rifle. 

A threat warning went off in Kira's cockpit, causing him to look over his shoulder. "Locked onto me?" The Striker pack was approaching, but too slow...

Yzak smiled, and pulled the trigger, firing a salvo of beams at Strike. He was now regretting that he'd wasted his grenade in an ineffectual attack on Jack's Fianna, but those beams should be enough to destroy Strike, lacking Phase Shift...

However, at that very moment Falcon's Death Blossoms opened fire, catching the Duel in the leg and throwing off his aim at a crucial instant. The beams could still damage the Strike, but it would have to be a direct hit.

"No!" Yzak snarled. He was furious at the damage to his machine... and the fact that the attack had bought Kira just enough time to join up with the Striker pack and activate Phase-shift, hitting his thrusters and boosting out of the way of Yzak's beams with almost contemptuous ease.

And Kira wasn't through yet. Now the tables were turned; he had a hyper-impulse cannon, and he knew how to use it. Yelling wordlessly, he reversed course and flew straight at the Duel, firing the Agni all the way.

The first shot literally melted the machine's right arm off, while the second grazed Dearka's Buster when he came in to rescue Yzak from the powerful weapon's path; then a third blasted the Blitz's Trikeros into debris.

"Time to fall back," Athrun called, as surprised as his comrades by this turn of events. "It's too dangerous to pursue them any farther."

"Agreed," Nicol said quietly. "If we stay here, _we'll_ run out of power... if that hyper-impulse cannon doesn't get us first."

Yzak snarled in pure hate. "No! _No!"_ _How could that bastard? It's all because of that traitor! Grimaldi Falcon, you will die, along with the Strike!_

The four machines withdrew, leaving a victorious, and exhausted, quartet of pilots hanging in front of the _Archangel,_ their message clear: Attack again, and we will destroy you.

_Vesalius_ and _Gamow _limped away, surprised and stunned by the turn of events, their damaged mobile suits returning to their motherships, as the new arrival broke its silence.

"_Archangel, this is Lieutenant Jason Chance, acting captain of the Earth Forces escort ship _Odin. _It's good to see you."_

* * *

Le Creuset Team Ships, Artermis nearspace, 1 hour after the battle

* * *

"Well, things certainly didn't turn out the way we expected," said Rau Le Creuset, shaking his head. In the monitor in front of him, Yzak, Dearka and Nicol looked abashed; behind him, Athrun wasn't feeling so happy either, if his subdued expression was anything to go by. "Still, we'll get the legged ship sooner or later. _Vesalius _will be heading back to the homeland to undergo repairs. Captain Zelman has informed me that _Gamow_'s damage is not as severe as _Vesalius_, so you three with be tasked with pursuing the legged ship and her escort. They'll probably continue on to Artemis, but do not engage just yet." Le Creuset's lips curved slightly, as he added, "Under orders from High Command, the _Nacht Jaeger_ will be dispatched to assist you. Yzak, you'll be the senior pilot of the team in my absence. Understand that you are _not _under Commander Huckbein's command, but neither is he under yours. Just work together with the man." Left unsaid was the reminder that Huckbeing enjoyed more political backing than three of them combined. 

Le Creuset held the gazes of his pilots, as if searching for something, and then nodded, evidently finding what he was looking for. "Very well, that will be all. _Vesalius_ will depart within the hour, once we've offloaded supplies and equipment to the _Gamow_. If everything goes well, we'll have a little reunion in a few weeks' time. Good luck."

Le Creuset killed the transmission and Yzak leant back, oddly thoughtful. Nicol was glad that the silver-haired pilot was quiet. Dearka… he was pretty sure that something bad was going to happen. A quiet, thoughtful Yzak was abnormal.

He was right.

"Alright, you heard the Commander," said Yzak, getting up in a burst of activity. "Nicol, Dearka: we're going to come up with a plan to assault Artemis. I don't care that it can't be done. I don't care that everyone says it's impossible. The legged ship is going there, we're going to get there before Huckbein, and we _will_ have an assault plan ready by the time he arrives. I'm _not _going to let him show us up. We're the _Le Creuset__ Team._ We're _elite_._The Best._ It's time to prove to everyone that we didn't get our red coats because of our parents, but because _we deserve our coats!_"

Oh yes, thought Dearka unhappily. This was _so_ going to blow up in their faces.

On the other hand, if it worked, they'd be famous... and one step closer to the Grimaldi Falcon.

* * *

_To be continued..._

* * *

_Notes: _Rau Le Creuset may have been driven off by _Archangel _and _Odin_, but _Gamow_ is still in the fight, and Huckbein the Raven approaches...as the Snow Team creates one helluva divergence from their original timeline... 

Whew, it's done.Man, took me almost three months to finish this chapter. No excuses, though life has been throwing me several curveballs lately; I've ended up dropping out from college, and am now working, saving up to go back to college once I've regained my fire. Hopefully now that life has settled down a bit, I can get back to a proper writing schedule. Many thanks to the members of the Jade Series forums, who listened to my brainstorming and gave suggestions: this one's for you, guys.

The song that Jack was mutilating, for the interested, is _Dango Daikazoku_, the ending theme for Clannad. I highly recommend it; it's a heartwarming show about friendship and family. Gainax fans may recognise some quotes in here... I just couldn't resist putting them in. **(XD)** With regards to the Fiannas... their performance here does appear to be something of a letdown, after Morgan Chevalier's spectacular entry in _Cry of the Falcon_. Rest assured that all will be revealed soon, and that they'll performing like the advanced variable fighters they are.

As to time paradoxes and whether Snow, Jack and Saito'll get back to the future... we'll just have to see. Till next time! - Wild Goose


	3. Chapter 3: Downtime

Disclaimer: Gundam SEED is property of Sunrise and Bandai. Kenneth DiFalco, Sophia DiFalco and the Gray Demons are the creation of Solid Shark, used with permission. The TRVF-X51A Fianna's original form is the creation of Shoji Kawamori. The character of Saito is the original creation of Masamune Shirow and Production I.G. About the only thing I own is this idea, the Seburo M-11 pistol, and Jack David. This is a nonprofit fanfiction, written merely to entertain.

With thanks to Solid Shark, who allowed this stab at an AU retelling of _Birds of a Feather_.

* * *

"_Putting together your first op and executing it has a thrill you can't imagine," says Yzak Joule, ZAFT Commander and former member of the Le Creuset Team and True ZAFT. His smile is part wry, part self-depreciating. "Of course, we were all young and dangerous then. We thought we were invincible. Having PSA-equipped G-weapons didn't hurt that complex."_

_The raid on Artemis that he planned and led is considered by today's ZAFT to be an example of straightforward tactics derived from common sense & obviousness; Joule's opinion differs. "Back then, we didn't care much for sneak attacks. Call it an institutional bias. Most ZAFT Commanders preferred to fight the enemy straight up. That was a feeling we all shared. Why bother sneaking around when you can smash through? Of course, the Commanders we all remember – DiFalco, Le Creuset, Waltfeld – were sneaky fighters. When we were planning the Artemis raid I wanted to go in guns blazing and level the place. Since the defenses made that impossible, I had to use a softer touch._

"_We were supposed to wait for _Nacht Jaeger_ and Huckbein's team to support us, since _Archangel_ had met up with _Odin_, but I was impatient and confident we could do it. Sure, both ships could take a lot of punishment, but so long as we caught them off guard in their berths, I figured the risk was worth it. While Blitz took care of the defenses, Duel and Buster rushed the harbor. But Falcon outthought me. While _Archangel_ was berthed, he'd left _Odin_ on stealth outside Artemis, and Jason Chance jumped _Gamow_ the moment we committed. We still took out Artemis, but that didn't make up for getting our ship hammered and losing our primary target."_

_Joule's raid on Artemis is taught as a textbook example of how surprise is achieved by a commander's misinterpretation of available data._

Excerpt from_ "ZAFT Aces of the Bloody Valentine Wars"_, Published C.E. 79, Orb Navy Press.

* * *

_Chapter 3: Downtime_

* * *

Archangel, Sickbay, Artemis Nearspace. 24 hours after Heliopolis collapse

* * *

"Let me get this straight: in the last 24 hours we're either been sent back in time or into a parallel universe, you've revealed ourselves to the Major and given him the Gamma's specs, VPS and NJCs, allied ourselves with Archangel, impersonated an NID team, gone head to head with the Le Crueset Team, massacred Garcia's troops after tossing them out the airlock, and staged a mutiny against me."

"I wouldn't put things _that_ way..."

"You've been busy," remarked Marcus Snow laconically, leaning back against the raised sickbay bed. Archangel's hurried launch had meant that Doc Hibson lacked a full complement of Sick Berth Attendants, meaning that whenever the good doctor was at the mess or asleep, sickbay was unattended, which Snow was putting to good use, debriefing his 2nd in command.

Jack David shrugged ruefully and gave his flight lead a crooked smile. "I'd like ta point out tha' Neumann and I tossed them ou' tha airlock inta tha dock; twasn't like I spaced 'em. And yowert unconscious from a concussion. Hard tha', for a pissed man ta lead."

"What did we discuss about bad accents?"

"Can't help it. The blood of Yorkshire runs through my veins, that land of hardy farmers and all creatures great and small."

"You're ethnically and culturally Chinese with a shot of Welsh, and you affect various accents to amuse yourself," retorted Snow. "Have you given the Major an intel dump?"

"To be honest, I've got misgivings. I'm a pilot with a secondary Intelligence specialization. I just get the intel and give it to the decision makers, then climb in my Fianna and shoot what they tell me to shoot. But this… I'd like to say it's above my paygrade and-"

"It's your call. _You _mutineed against me," smirked Snow.

"You're never going to stop taking the mickey outta me for that, are you?"

"Never. And I'm still waiting for your answer."

"Honestly, I'd like nothing more than to dump everything and let the Major sort it out," sighed Jack. "But some things aren't worth saying, it might affect history and future outcomes… I dunno."

"You've already screwed with things by getting _Odin_ to link with us," pointed Snow. "Trying to stick with the original timeline was a lost cause once we got them to help us. And there are other things I'm worried about. The Advance Force will be coming. Are you going to be very upset if George Allster dies?"

"Well, of course it's a tragedy to lose-"

"No, you won't, you'll be dancing on his grave," concluded Snow, giving his friend A Look. "And that concerns me. We've been together for the last eight years. I know you very well – you're not going to care much what happens to the Earth Forces outside our people because you hate them."

Jack returned Snow's look levelly, his eyes hard. "I don't think that's any of your business, mate."

"Buddy, it _is_ my business. You're my wingman, and you have issues, and I can't risk those issues jeopardizing our position here. There's no room for hate on the battlefield. When we fly I want to be sure my wingman's focused on the mission and not on his vendetta."

* * *

_Archangel_, Bridge

* * *

Artemis, decided Arnold Neumann, was a place he would be very glad to never see again.

He'd hoped for a brief respite, and had instead been placed under arrest, his ship taken over by Admiral Garcia's troops, and when Garcia had been ready to shoot everyone just because he didn't believe Kira Yamato was Strike's pilot, he'd felt so powerless and helpless. Then Falcon had appeared and cut his way through Garcia's men, and he'd felt hope that he could make a difference. Rallied by the two Orb officers, he'd grabbed a pistol from one of the dead soldiers and together the crew had taken back their ship, amazingly with zero casualties. He'd felt satisfaction as he and Jack had chased the last of the Artemis troops out the airlock, a feeling that he'd stood up for himself and his ship. It was a good feeling.

What troubled him was the story he'd been hearing. How the Artemis troops who'd been evicted from _Archangel_ had been killed. Cut down like wheat by one Lt. Commander David. Who'd gone down, spoken to them, offered the defeated soldiers cigarettes, and then shot them, went one story. Another version had him toss unloaded rifles and ammo to the Eurasians and challenge them to shoot him; he'd waited until they were almost done loading and then shot them before they could fire.

Neumann wasn't sure whether any of the stories were true. What he did know is that Jack hadn't followed him to the bridge immediately. He'd lingered at the airlock… and then, minutes later, had caught up to Neumann.

More than enough time…

Neumann shook his head and tried to put the thoughts out of his mind and focus on his controls. _Archangel_ had laid in a course to Junius Seven to salvage supplies. They'd shaken off _Gamow _and _Odin_ was keeping formation with them. Hopefully, even Huckbein the Raven would think twice about attacking two powerful warships with just a _Nazca_ and his mobile suit team. Then Archangel would be home free, with no disturbances for the near future.

_Yeah, right. Maybe if I tell myself that enough times, I'll believe it._

_

* * *

Archangel,_ Bridge, February 2nd, C.E. 71

* * *

Several days after the escape from Artemis, it was time to determine the ships' next moves. They'd had a number of problems _before_ Artemis, and none of them had been resolved. It was fortunate that _Archangel_'s bridge was fairly spacious, but with the bridge crew, Falcon, Sophia, Jason Chance, Snow, Jack and Saito on bridge, one couldn't help but feel somewhat cramped.

"We're starting to run a little low on food," Mu mused, sitting in the copilot's seat (Tolle being off-duty). "Worse, we've only got enough water for a few more days."

Murrue nodded. "I know. I've been worried about that ever since Heliopolis collapsed. I'd hoped Artemis could remedy that situation, but..."

"Same problem here," remarked Chance. "Not quite as bad as yours, but getting close."

"Maybe if we plotted a course closer to Earth?" Natarle suggested. "If we can fly a tighter course across the orbital path, we might be able to reach Earth Alliance territory with the supplies we have."

Neumann shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Ma'am. Remember, there's the Debris Belt to consider; and if we chart our course any closer, we _will_ have to pass through it."

Murrue frowned. "Why don't we do that?"

Falcon, standing at the rear of the Bridge, shook his head. "Negative. With that much debris floating around, we'd end up as _part_ of it, more than likely."

"True enough," Mu agreed; more evidence that they were brothers was the fact that they usually thought alike. "Unless... Hey, wait a second!" He turned in his seat, an arrested expression on his face. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

The ex-ZAFT pilot nodded thoughtfully. "Could be, Mu. There's a lot of junk out there..." He trailed off. "I think we should get Kira and the others in on this," he said after a moment. "We'll need their assistance to pull it off, more than likely."

Sophia looked up at her brother. "Just what are you two thinking of?"

"Patience, sister," he said calmly. "Patience. All shall be revealed at the proper time."

_That's another thing that's starting to get on my nerves,_ she thought._ He can toss off all those sarcastic remarks... without any more emotion than a shark tearing into a school of fish._

"You might say we're thinking of a way to make the impossible possible," Mu told her with a smile... thus irritating her even more.

_

* * *

Archangel, _Mess

* * *

Kira sat at a table, staring blankly at a bulkhead, while he ate in an absentminded fashion. He was depressed, which wasn't too surprising; Athrun was with the enemy, and now he was a traitor to his own kind... or so some said.

He was reminded of something Falcon had told him the day before, quoting one his "Lessons of War". _"If you get to feeling down, Kira, just remember Lesson Thirty-three: War is ninety-seven percent boredom, two percent depression, and one percent sheer, howling terror. So far, you've experienced the one percent of terror, and you'll probably soon be in the two percent of depression. But cheer up: you're almost to the ninety-seven percent boredom phase."_

As far as Kira could tell, Falcon was telling the literal truth as he saw it.

And when he got to thinking about Garcia's last words, denouncing him as a traitor to Coordinators, he took comfort in what Falcon had told him the day Heliopolis was shattered, about how one's genes didn't determine who one's "kind" was. And, of course, there was Lesson Twenty-six: _One man's traitor is another man's patriot_. Kira supposed Falcon fell into that category, and so did he, after a fashion.

"Hey, Earth to Kira," Tolle said, waving a fork. "You alive over there?"

Kira twitched, having more or less lost track of the outside world. "Huh? What's up, Tolle?"

"I was just saying that I was wondering what we were going to do about the supplies," his friend said. "We're nearly out of water, in case you didn't notice."

He had, actually; and now a part of him wondered if Falcon had any "lessons" that covered _this_ situation. Probably; the man seemed to be a modern Sun Tzu... though with more sarcastic phrasing.

"I'm sure it'll be okay," Kira said after a moment. "The officers all know about it, so they're probably trying to figure that out right now."

"Trying, yes," Flay said nervously. "But will they think of something in time?"

Sai laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Of course they will, Flay. We haven't come this far to fail because of some little thing like that."

"And Falcon's up there too," Mir pointed out. "With him and the Lieutenant -I still can't believe they're brothers- they'll find the solution without a problem."

Tolle looked at her strangely. "You really like the guy, don't you?"

She glared at him. "Don't look at me like that, Tolle! I just think that, beneath that exterior of his, he's a nice guy; and nobody else, except maybe Lieutenant La Flaga, is willing to treat him like a human being."

"Now wait a minute, Mir," Sai protested. "That's not really-"

"Think about it," Mir challenged. "All of you; especially you, Kuzzey. Ever since Heliopolis, you've all thought of him just as 'that ZAFT pilot', haven't you? Just another guy who's famous for making the impossible possible, all the while overlooking the guy himself. There's more to him that just the ace pilot, you know; he has feelings."

"But his sister says-" Kuzzey began.

"That he has all the warm feelings of a dead fish?" She snorted. "Notice Lieutenant DiFalco's barely even seen him in almost ten years. Frankly, I think she doesn't know she's talking about."

"Miriallia's right," Kira said, standing. "I don't know how much 'warm feeling' he has, but he's really not that different from us. Except..." He trailed off. "Except he's feeling guilty about something."

Sai tilted his head. "What do you mean, Kira?"

"I don't know... but there's more to his desertion than just a disagreement with ZAFT policy," Kira pointed out. "There has to be. I think there's something he knows, or did, that's eating him."

Mir nodded. "I noticed that, too. But every time somebody brings up why he deserted, Falcon just says it's none of their business or that it's classified. It looks to me, though, that he's scared of something, and it scared him badly enough to make him leave ZAFT, and even fight them."

"But he seems pleased ZAFT stole four of the new mobile suits," Flay noted. "Why...?"

Kira thought about that. "He said he's fighting for a balance," he said slowly. "I think he would have preferred it if _Archangel_ had kept three, to achieve parity; but since we only have two, he has to compensate by going out there himself."

"I'd call that compensating," Tolle agreed. "ZAFT's Ace of Aces is worth three other pilots."

"But could that goal make him fight the _Archangel?"_ Flay said worriedly.

"No way, Flay," Mir told her. "I don't think that's how it works for him. Maybe there'll come a time when turning on the _Archangel_ will be the best way to carry out his goal... but I think he'll find another way. It's not in him to betray someone he's fought alongside unless there's _no_ other option, and I don't think that's the case here."

"But how much can one guy do all by himself?" Kuzzey said plaintively. "It just doesn't make sense!"

"Yes, it does," she said quietly. "According to Lieutenant La Flaga, though one of them died later, there _were_ four other survivors of Endymion in Falcon's unit. Which means there are still three Gray Demons somewhere in ZAFT." Her gaze went over them all. "Don't you think he'd have left instructions for them? General guidelines, at least? His people were very loyal to him, so I don't think he's alone in this."

_That_ thought had not occurred to any of them, but now that they thought about it, Falcon was known for being a very intelligent individual, and an excellent tactician. That didn't necessarily equate to strategic brilliance, of course, but there were some in the media and the Earth Forces who insisted the Grimaldi Falcon had played a not inconsiderable role in planning the Nova operation... and possibly had selected the target himself. There was still considerable controversy among the top brass about just how much influence he really had on ZAFT policy. Some said he was just one team commander, who happened to have a well-earned reputation as a combat pilot. Others said he was all of that, but also a man with considerable clout in ZAFT's High Command.

A small minority, however, believed Falcon had climbed _very_ high in the ZAFT hierarchy, despite his official title of commander. This group said the Grimaldi Falcon had a role in planning several of ZAFT's most successful operations, and had likely left behind detailed plans even after his "death" (the Earth Forces had eventually decided, after his disappearance, that Falcon was KIA) at Nova; plans that even now were still valid.

And, they claimed, he had the ear of National Defense Committee Chairman Patrick Zala himself.

No one knew for sure. After a week on the _Archangel,_ Falcon still revealed little about his last months with ZAFT. He was perfectly willing to speak of his time up to and including Endymion, but beyond that he would merely say he fought at Nova and was involved in some kind of project that had prompted his desertion; no other details were known, except that he apparently had a great deal of sensitive information in his pocket computer.

"So what do you think he's planning?" Kira said finally.

"I have no idea," Mir admitted. "Actually, I don't think he _is_ planning anything right now, really. Anything to do with the PLANTs must have been set in motion last year; anything beyond that he must be making up as he goes along, because I don't think he expected to be dragged back into the war at Heliopolis. I think he thought his part was over, that anything else would have to be accomplished by his teammates."

"You're making him out to be some kind of Machiavellian schemer," Tolle remarked. "You think Falcon's really that devious?"

"They say he had the ear of Patrick Zala," she pointed out. "After everything I've seen, I'm inclined to believe it."

Further discussion was cut off by the ship's public address system. _"Kira Yamato, Sai Argyle, Tolle Koenig, Miriallia Haw, Kuzzey Buskirk, and Flay Allster, please report to the Bridge."_

The six exchanged glances. "I wonder what's up?" Sai murmured.

"Bet Falcon's up to his neck in it," Tolle opined.

_

* * *

Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

"Supplies?" Sai said, minutes later. "There's some way we can get some?"

"You might say that," Mu agreed, nodding. "Or," he added with a raffish look, "you might say that we intend to take them."

Kira's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, Lieutenant?"

"We're now entering the Debris Belt," Murrue informed them. "As you know, besides various things such as old tools, obsolete satellites-"

"And obsolete cosmonaughts," Mu put in under his breath, causing Falcon to have a brief coughing fit.

"-there are also a number of wrecked spacecraft," she finished, sending the Hawk a quelling look and glancing briefly at Falcon, wondering if that had been genuine coughing or a cover for actual laughter. Probably the former; he didn't look capable of levity. "According to the laws of salvage, these ships belong to no one as long as they're just floating, abandoned, in orbit."

Sai drew back, floating away. "Hold on a minute! You don't mean-"

"Yes, we do," Falcon said quietly. "We don't have much choice; and in war, people often have to do things they'd rather not."

"But that's stealing!" Kuzzey protested.

Mu shook his head. "No, it isn't. When it comes to salvage, it's finders keepers, and has been for a long time. And Falcon's right: we don't have any other choice."

"So what does that have to do with _us?"_ Kira asked. "We don't know what to look for."

"You don't have to." Murrue looked at each of them in turn. "What we need you young people for is to man the shuttles to bring in the supplies, once we've found them. You'll be along for the search as well, of course, but Petty Officers Chandra and Pal will accompany you, as well as Falcon; I think he's competent in that area."

"You might say that." Falcon glanced out the main viewport. "Mu," he said abruptly, "I'll need a back-seater for this run."

Mu blinked. "Huh? Why?"

"Let's just say that I'm expecting to have to go EVA out there," the ace replied. "So I'll need someone to take control of Raptor while I'm at it. Don't worry, even a Natural can handle it well enough to move it around, outside of combat."

"Comforting," the Hawk said dryly. "I presume you do plan on letting me in on the secret sometime, little brother?"

Falcon didn't rise to the bait, despite the fact that whenever _Sophia_ had called him that, he'd gotten just a mite irritated. Or, to be more precise, he threw her against a wall the one and only time she said it. _Of course, she's not really my sister, is she? I'll tolerate it from Mu... if only to avoid breaking my cover._

Aloud, he said, "Yes, Mu, you'll know. But only when we get there. There's... something I'll have to do, and something all of you should see."

He did not choose to explain that remark.

* * *

PLANTs, Aprilius One, PLANT Supreme Council Chamber, February 3rd, C.E. 71

* * *

Several million kilometers away and approximately a hundred and twenty degrees around the Earth's orbit from the _Archangel,_ Rau Le Creuset was delivering his report on the events at Heliopolis to the PLANT Supreme Council. It was not an enviable task.

"...And, as you can see from the information I've provided, the collapse of Heliopolis was unavoidable; and, in the end, due to the Earth Forces' own actions," Le Creuset concluded.

Various members of the Council, such as Chairman Siegel Clyne and Representatives Tad Elsman and Yuri Amalfi were obviously concerned by this news, but National Defense Committee Chairman Patrick Zala merely nodded thoughtfully. "Understood, Commander. However: are these new machines worth the sacrifices made by our ZAFT forces?"

Le Creuset nodded. "I believe so, Sir, and to explain their phenomenal potential, I have here one of our pilots, Athrun Zala, who flew one of the stolen machines and met the two that remain with the Earth Forces in battle. However..." He paused, debating how to present the next headache, and finally decided to be blunt. "I'm afraid I have even worse news, from our perspective, than the collapse of Heliopolis. You see, Sir, we've identified the pilot of one of the two remaining G-weapons. His name is Kenneth DiFalco."

That news was greeted with stunned silence, especially by Tad Elsman. He knew the young man well, since the Grimaldi Falcon was his son Dearka's best friend. The idea of him deserting had been hard enough to swallow, but actually _defecting_ to the Earth Alliance? Preposterous!

But Patrick Zala had even more reason to be shocked... and very, very concerned.

After the silence had faded, to be replaced by murmurings, Zala was still thinking furiously... or trying to, at least, in the face of that monstrous shock.

Finally, he shot to his feet. _"Are you sure about that?"_

Even Le Creuset winced at the volume; he also began to suspect his former teammate had risen a little higher in ZAFT's hierarchy than he'd thought. "Yes, Sir, I'm afraid so. I spoke to him personally, and his tactics matched what I recalled of him... as did his battle cry."

Zala closed his eyes. "This," he said harshly, "is a _disaster!"_

Clyne looked at him in concern. "Is something wrong, Representative Zala? I am, of course, aware of the implications of Commander DiFalco's defection, both in terms of his knowledge of the homeland's defenses and the effect it will undoubtedly have on morale, but you seem to be implying something more."

His one-time political ally took a deep breath. "Yes, Mr. Chairman, there's more. I would prefer not to go into too much detail in this setting, as some of it is highly sensitive military information, but yes, Commander DiFalco was far more important than his rank would suggest." Zala glanced around the chamber. "All of you know that it was the Grimaldi Falcon who suggested the attack on Nova, in addition to providing the plan that allowed us to take it and make it our own. What you may not know is that many operations we are currently planning -most, perhaps _all_ of them- were Commander DiFalco's plans. To make matters worse, he was deeply involved in a highly classified military program, information about which could be ruinous to us should it reach Alliance hands."

There was another long silence, finally broken by Le Creuset. "I don't think it's as bad as that, Sir," he offered. "Admittedly, with his defection we can no longer be certain of it, but, having served with the man in combat, it is my professional opinion that Commander DiFalco will _not_ give the Earth Forces any more information than absolutely necessary, and that he would not under any circumstances provide them with the knowledge necessary to pass Boaz and Jachin Due."

"Explain, please," Clyne requested.

"Of course, Sir. Your Excellencies, whatever he may have done, Ken DiFalco is a son of the PLANTs... and one that remembers the loss of Junius Seven with bitterness. Additionally, I believe him to be entirely sincere in his current objective, however much I may disagree with it."

"What objective is that?" Elsman said sharply.

Le Creuset turned to him. "According to one of my pilots, Dearka Elsman -DiFalco's best friend- DiFalco is apparently attempting to achieve a strategic victory for the PLANTs... but not an overwhelming one. He wishes us victory, but not to the extent that we dictate all terms to the Earth Alliance. You will notice that, despite his actions in combat against _Vesalius_ and her mobile suits, DiFalco did not actually interfere in our capture of the G-weapons, and even now resorts to disabling attacks only."

"Odd activity for a traitor," Ezalia Joule observed. "Do you actually believe Elsman's reports?"

"I believe that Dearka was telling the truth, yes," he acknowledged. "If you're asking if I think DiFalco truly believes himself to be acting in the best interests of the PLANTs... then yes, I would say I do. It may sound insane, Ma'am, but even if DiFalco _has_ snapped -which I'm not certain of- madmen can be very rational and consistent within their delusion."

"A point," Elsman murmured. "And, like you, I find it difficult to understand how Falcon could have betrayed us. I knew the young man well, even before he joined ZAFT." He ran a hand through his long brown hair, frowning. "Is there any other possible explanation for his behavior, Commander?"

Le Creuset shrugged. "Falcon is well known for his... individualistic tendencies, Sir. He is brilliant and devious; and I seem to recall he was transferred to Special Forces over his own vehement protests. It has occurred to me that, in his frustration at being taken from the frontline, Falcon may have departed to operate undercover, on his own initiative. In that scenario, his months on Heliopolis with no apparent activity could be construed as a method of building his cover."

Zala looked at him. "Just how likely do you think this theory is, Commander Le Creuset?"

"Difficult to say, Sir. Having served with him, I am disinclined to believe him capable of treason... but on the other hand, he _did_ kill Olor and Matthew, two of my veteran pilots."

Clyne steepled his fingers, deep in thought. "Very well," he said finally. "Assuming there is no objection, our forces will be directed to capture Commander DiFalco if at all possible, preferably relatively undamaged." He glanced around the table. "Is that acceptable, Committee Chairman Zala?"

Zala frowned, but finally nodded. "Yes. It's important to remove him from the Earth Forces' reach as soon as possible, but not absolutely critical. Codes can be changed -and will be, though we'll leave an option open should this truly be some insane covert operation- and as for battle plans... well, Commander DiFalco may be privy to them, and probably has copies of them in his possession, but there's little one man can do to affect them, even if he gains access to Earth Alliance Headquarters. And I doubt they'd be inclined to believe him, anyway."

Joule nodded. "Agreed. The Grimaldi Falcon, a defector? Ha! They'd assume it was a trick, and for all anyone knows, it may be."

Clyne nodded. "Then it's settled. Commander Le Creuset?"

"I'll pass the orders on to my men," the masked commander promised.

"Good. Now, I believe you said you had information on the Alliance mobile suits?"

"Yes, Sir." Le Creuset glanced back. "Athrun?"

Athrun stepped forward, swiftly taking his commander's place before the Council table. "First," he began, showing no trace of his unease at facing the Supreme Council of the PLANTs, "I would like to present this machine, the Aegis." Holographic images of the red mobile suit appeared in the air. "One major characteristic is its transformation capability, allowing it to convert to a mobile armor for certain specialized roles. With its transforming frame, the GAT-X303 Aegis is fundamentally different from the other five machines." Combat data began streaming, and he began to point out the weapons. "In mobile suit mode, it is equipped with an Igelstellung CIWS, four beam sabers, an anti-beam shield, and a high-energy focused beam rifle. In mobile armor form, its main weapon is the Scylla, a 580 millimeter multiphase energy cannon." A graphic was shown of it going from basic gray to its standard red. "One major technological advance used in these machines is Phase-shift armor. When in use, it puts a severe drain on the machine's energy battery, but it has compensations: this new armor is virtually impervious to physical weapons, and can only be pierced by energy weapons such as beam rifles and sabers."

The image changed, to Yzak's white-and-blue machine. "GAT-X102 Duel," Athrun continued. "The most basic of the six machines, this mobile suit is intended for close combat, and is believed to be the basis for the other five machines. It is the most lightly armed, having only CIWS, two beam sabers, and a beam rifle with attached grenade launcher."

He pointed out the next model, Dearka's green-and-tan unit. "GAT-X103 Buster. It possesses no close-range weapons, and appears to be intended for fire support and long-range sniper attacks. It is not equipped with a shield; however, it does have a 57 millimeter gun launcher, a high-energy focused beam rifle, and a pair of missile launchers, one in each shoulder. In the hands of an expert marksman, Buster is a lethal weapon."

The graphic switched to Nicol's menacing black-and-red mobile suit. "GAT-X207: the Blitz. This model is equipped with a unique system known as Mirage Colloid, which covers the machine with colloid gas particles, held in place by an electromagnetic field, rendering Blitz virtually invisible radar, infrared, and even the naked eye; however, power requirements mean it cannot be used while Phase-shift is active. Blitz is also equipped with the Gleipnir piercer lock, and the Trikeros offensive shield system, which consists of a beam rifle, beam saber, and three kinetic penetrator darts."

Athrun braced himself for what he was about to explain. "The pair that got away." He altered the image, displaying Kira Yamato's machine. "GAT-X105 Strike. In the case of this model, we are limited to observational data alone, but we've already seen all of its various weapons in action. First, the machine itself is equipped with Igelstellungs, a beam rifle, and a pair of Armor Schneider combat knives, stored in the hips. Additionally, its loadout can be customized through the use of Striker packs, giving it added firepower, endurance, and maneuverability. Most versatile is the Aile package, which grants the Strike atmospheric flight capabilities and a pair of beam sabers, making it essentially an up-rated version of the Duel. The Launcher loadout, on the other hand, equips the machine with an antiship Vulcan cannon, a pair of gun launchers, and a 320 millimeter hyper-impulse cannon; as you can see from the combat data-" scenes from Heliopolis were playing "-it has power far in excess of any other mobile suit. Finally, the Sword Strike pack uses a fifteen-meter antiship sword, a rocket anchor, and a beam boomerang."

The screen shifted to the last G-Weapon. "GAT-X107 Raptor. At first glance, it isn't that different from the Strike. The basic frame is the same, and it's equipped with Igelstellungs, Armor Schneiders, a beam rifle, and a hardwired Aile Strike pack; and it's been observed that it can use weapons from the Strike's other modes. However, from com imagery it's evident it has space for a second crewmember, probably a gunner; additionally, it carries a pair of beam cannons on the Striker pack... and its most unique feature, the so-called Death Blossom system. Clearly inspired by the Moebius Zero's wired gunbarrels, this system isn't very different. The only substantive difference is that these are energy weapons... which means it is quite capable of bringing down even other machines of its series." Athrun faced the Council directly. "This would not be a problem, as the system can only be used by someone with exceptional powers of spatial awareness... were it not for the fact that Raptor is now Commander DiFalco's personal machine."

Heads nodded at that; the Grimaldi Falcon's skills in that area were well known to all of them, particularly Zala and Elsman.

The display to its final subject, showing a slate-gray mobile armor; unlike the Moebius series, it appeared sleek and fast, a craft that would be at home both in space and atmosphere. "The final enemy units observed," Athrun announced. "A new Alliance mobile armor, one that Intelligence was unaware existed. It's been tentatively designated as Fianna, based on communications intercepts. It appears to be a sucessor to the Moebius series, and is highly agile with superior built-in firepower to its predecessor: the gunpod it carries fires beams at a higher rate of fire than the beam rifles used by Aegis and Duel, while the wings show a number of hardpoints for external ordanance. From observational data it's a capable craft: this unit was able –with some difficulty- to fend off Duel unassisted."

That gave the council pause. It typically took 5 Moebius to bring down a GINN, and kill ratios had been steadily in ZAFT's favour due to the GINN's superiority to the Moebius. If the Alliance managed to mass produce a mobile armor capable of fighting ZAFT's mobile suits on close to equal terms... and since the Alliance's mobile armor pilots outnumbered ZAFT's mobile suit pilots...

"Thank you for your report," Clyne said. "Commander Le Creuset, Mr. Zala, you're dismissed."

They saluted. "Yes, Sir," Le Creuset said respectfully, and left with Athrun.

After they were gone, Elsman nearly snapped the pencil he held. "They've manufactured these abominations?" he said through gritted teeth. "So much for Orb's claims of neutrality!"

"Surely only seven machines -four of which are now in our hands- cannot be _that_ much of a threat," Amalfi said uneasily. "Particularly as one of them is a mobile armor."

"Perhaps not," Zala acknowledged. "But the next stage is obviously mass production; and _that,_ Representative Amalfi, _is_ a threat." He glowered at the room at large. "And the Grimaldi Falcon's defection makes the situation even worse! However," he went on, visibly getting hold of himself, "I believe I know just the man to bring in Commander DiFalco; or, if the need should arise, neutralize him. As it happens, I had already asked him to join us, to present his report on the Heliopolis situation. Shall I send him in?"

Clyne considered, then nodded. "Very well, Committee Chairman Zala."

Zala pressed an intercom button on the table. "Send in Commander Huckebein."

A few moments later, the distinctive mask came into view... and Victor Tempest walked into the Council Chamber.

* * *

Earth Orbit, Debris Belt

* * *

The _Archangel_ and _Odin_, having entered the extremely hazardous Debris Belt, had finally begun their search for water supplies. Food could wait, but water was running dangerously low.

To this end, the ships launched several Mystral work shuttles, along with Strike, Raptor and a Fianna for escort purposes... as well as Falcon's mysterious errand.

"Pretty high-tech setup," Mu commented from the machine's gunner's seat. "A few gadgets I don't think even the Strike has."

"That's because my sister, for all her -many- faults, is a brilliant engineer," Falcon replied. "The Death Blossom system, for example, is obviously her work; though why she bothered, I don't know."

The Hawk nodded. "Yeah; not many pilots out there who can handle it, be they Natural _or_ Coordinator. Still, I think we should be grateful she did it; and that she was in the project, for that matter."

"Oh, I am... but that doesn't mean I'm happy with her." Not exactly news. The entire ship knew by now that Falcon and Sophia were siblings, at least by adoption; and that they weren't speaking. "See anything like what we're looking for yet?"

Mu squinted at his displays. "Not yet. Kira?"

"Me either." Kira glanced at the shuttles. "Sai, Tolle? Find anything?"

"Not yet," Sai answered. "Wait, there's something..." They were coming up on a very large, very peculiar piece of debris, several kilometers in extent...

Tolle gasped. "No way! That's... that's..."

"_Agnus dei, qui tollis pecata mundis, dona eis requiem_," whispered Jack, reciting the ancient Latin prayer, swallowing a lump a lump in his throat, gazing at a scene historical photos had not prepared him for. _A __Million voices cried out in terror, and were suddenly silenced..._

Of them all, only Falcon was unsurprised. "The remains of Junius Seven."

_

* * *

Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

Murrue stared at the image on the screen in mute shock. _"Are you sure?"_ she heard Mu ask, over the radio.

_"Oh, yeah,"_ Falcon answered._ "Think I wouldn't recognize the remains of one of the worst atrocities in human history? The remains of the place where I was born? This is it, all right."_

Apparently, it was their day for surprises, as the next report showed. "Mobile suit on radar!" Tonomura called out. "We're reading a CGUE atop the PLANT's remains!"

"Activate laser designator!" Natarle snapped, startled out of her own reverie. "Load missile tubes, lock Gottfrieds on-"

_"Belay that,"_ Falcon snapped._ "Weapons tight,_ Archangel,_ and take a closer look."_

Puzzled, but deferring to the ace, Natarle complied... and a moment later understood. "Oh. Of course; I should have known."

"We all should have," Murrue murmured, seeing the new image on the screen. It was a CGUE all right... a slate-gray CGUE, with feather markings. "After all, where else would a child of murdered Junius leave his personal machine?"

_"I couldn't take it with me to Heliopolis, so I left it here, instead,"_ Falcon explained quietly._ "A silent sentinel, watching over my murdered homeland."_ He glanced over his shoulder._ "This is why I brought you along, Mu. I'm going out there." _He looked back out of the screen._ "I'm bringing it aboard, Murrue. There's no need to leave it here any longer... and it has a few useful odds and ends."_

The link was cut, and on screen, Raptor's hatch opened.

* * *

Debris Belt, Ruins of Junius Seven

* * *

Mu watched the pilot push himself out of the cockpit, feeling almost as numb as the volunteers. _The remains of Junius Seven... I had no idea they'd wound up here... or that Falcon was from here._

"Be careful out there, eh, Brother?" he called.

The seemingly-emotionless pilot looked back, cocked an eyebrow, and said merely, "Aren't I always?"

Falcon now crossed the short gulf to his old mobile suit, peripherally aware as he did so of his classmates and a couple of _Archangel_'s regular crew going out to investigate the colony itself. He didn't need to; the last time he was here, he'd searched through the rubble and bodies himself... and found the one he sought, to his sorrow.

He reached the CGUE's hatch, and quickly typed 2-14-70 into the hatch controls. The date of the Bloody Valentine was the key, and the machine answered its master's call, opening the hatch in the utter silence of the vastness of space.

Falcon glanced around, noting that all was as he had left it. Most prominent was the sword that stood upright in the pilot's seat; with a scabbard and pommel of red, the katana matched the wakizashi he wore at his side. He had left it with the CGUE, months before, because it would have been much harder to conceal; and concealment had been highly desirable for the greatest traitor to ZAFT. Now, though, he had returned to the field of battle, and hiding was no longer an issue.

Tucked into a corner of the instrument panel was a carefully-protected photograph, of a teenage girl with hair as blonde as Falcon's had been, years before. The significance of that picture was known to only two living people... and neither would speak of the tragedy it represented.

Shaking off old, painful memories, Falcon settled into the pilot's seat and began powering up the CGUE's systems. ""This is the Grimaldi Falcon," he said into the now-active radio. "I'm returning to the ship."

_

* * *

Archangel, _Bridge

* * *

"No way! You can't be serious!"

Kira was staring at Natarle in disbelief; the reason was not hard to fathom. Their explorations of Junius Seven's remains had revealed water, and lots of it... but he felt it was wrong to take it from the murdered colony.

"There's close to a hundred million tons of ice over there," Natarle pointed out. "And we're running very low on water, remember; that's the reason we came here in the first place."

"But that's a graveyard!" Kira protested. "That's where hundreds of thousands of people lost their _lives,_ Natarle! And yet _you-"_

"It was two hundred forty-three thousand, seven hundred and twenty-one, to be exact," Falcon said quietly. "And I might have been one of them, had I not joined ZAFT. Yet what better purpose to put Junius' remains to than to aid the living, that they not perish, as well?"

"Aid the living? Even those who serve the organization that destroyed them all?" Mu asked. He was, of course, all in favor of taking the water from the colony; he was a very practical man. But he was interested in hearing Falcon's reasoning.

"We may yet put an end to this war, Mu," the one-eyed pilot told him. "This ship may, itself, insure that there is never another Bloody Valentine... and as that is _my_ mission, and I am a son of Junius Seven, I think I have the right to make such a judgment."

The Hawk nodded to himself. _Whatever he may choose to show the outside world, the guy _does_ have feelings... And I think Junius Seven's destruction had another significance for him..._

Even if he'd been inclined to press Falcon on the matter, the pilot didn't give him the chance. "I'll want Mr. Murdoch to look over my CGUE later," he said to Murrue. "I want to make sure it's still in proper shape, in case I should need it; and also, I'd like him to see if there's any way to modify its weapons for use on the Raptor. The sword, of course, isn't a problem; and it'll save power, using that rather than a beam saber on any mass-produced models. You'll also find that it's equipped with a particle cannon, somewhat more powerful than a standard beam rifle."

She nodded. "Right. But for now..."

"Yes. We need supplies." Falcon turned to Kira. "I know you don't like it, kid, but it has to be done. Will you assist?"

Kira sighed. "Not much choice, is there?"

"Then let's go."

* * *

Debris Belt, Ruins of Junius Seven

* * *

Within hours, the _Archangel_ and _Odin_'s Mystral shuttles were at work, escorted by the Strike and Raptor (this time, Mu stayed behind on the ship, since Falcon was perfectly capable of operating the machine by himself); Using various cutting tools, they began to separate sections of the ice, to be carried back to the ship. The Fiannas returned to standby as Snow –newly released from sickbay- and his team continued to debug the corrupted targeting algorithms; a job made more difficult as the three men weren't programmers by training.

It was slow going on all fronts, but Falcon didn't really mind. As a martial artist, he was a very patient man, and took the opportunity to use martial arts meditation techniques. It was something he did often... because he tended to get very little sleep.

When he did sleep, he tended to have nightmares, of the destruction of Junius Seven... and the far greater destruction he feared, the one that would be brought about by his own former comrades, should his mission fail. It was not yet possible, but Falcon knew they were working on a way to _make_ it possible... and they would suceed, because he was holding the fruits of their labor.

Jack had emailed him an intelligence brief covering the First Bloody Valentine War, highlighting shatterpoints and potential stumbling blocks with a frank admission of his reservations. Falcon had taken note, remembering that old quote – _"Always in motion is the future"_ – as well as his own Lesson Eleven: _"Military Intelligence" is usually a contradiction in terms. _But for now, his mad plan had a stronger chance for sucess, especially with the shatterpoints that were brought to his attention, so he put it out of his mind and forced himself to relax, while keeping an ear open for radio chatter.

_"How's it going?"_ Murrue asked, from the Bridge.

"Okay so far, Ma'am," Chandra replied. "At this rate, we should be finished in another three hours or so; but we've only got enough fuel for one more run."

_"Understood; it'll be enough."_

Falcon roused himself to take a look at his displays. He'd deployed the Death Blossoms to their maximum extension, and he was using them as remote sensors, to keep an eye on the area at large. At this particular moment, everything still looked green.

He keyed his radio. "Hey, Kira. Everything still okay at your end?" The Strike was patrolling on the opposite side of the colony.

"So far," Kira answered. "By the way, is this the 'ninety-seven percent boredom' part?"

Falcon nodded solemnly. "Sure is. And- Wait, I'm picking up something nearby... looks like a wrecked shuttle. Can you see it?"

Kira squinted at his displays. "Yeah, I see it. Looks like something hit it hard just recently, maybe yesterday; it says _Silverwind_ on the hull."

The one-eyed pilot stiffened, remembering a portion of Jack's intel brief. "Did you say _Silverwind?"_

"Yeah, why?"

"It's-" Falcon broke off mid-word, as his wired gunbarrels picked up a heat signature. "Watch it, Kira, there's something else out here." _According to Jack's intel packet, it's the Yun Law team's GINN Long Range Reconnaisance Type... _

Unlike the ace, Kira could see the source of the signature directly; and his onboard computer identified it, instead of using conjecture. "A two-seater GINN? Reconnaissance type... but what's it doing way out here?" It appeared to be examining the wreckage of the _Silverwind,_ which made no sense to Kira.

It made perfect sense to Falcon, though. _Searching for Lacus Clyne and survivors of the _Silverwind._ Which means that Rau and Victor will be here in the next few days..._ "It's looking for something. Kira, if that spots us, the _Archangel,_ _Odin _or the shuttles, we can't let it leave..."

"I know." Kira stared at the recon GINN, willing it to move away before it saw anything that would require him to destroy it. "Come on, go away, please..."

As if in answer to the Strike pilot's pleas, the GINN turned and began moving away... and then a Mystral rose into view, carrying a chunk of ice directly into the GINN's field of view.

Falcon whispered a curse, and Kira stared in horror. The Strike raised its beam rifle, still unseen by the ZAFT machine, and his finger began to tighten on the trigger. "No... I... I have to..."

Kuzzey and Chandra, in the shuttle, cried out as the GINN opened fire, missing with the first shot and then striking the fragile Mystral with the second.

That spurred the two pilots into action. The Strike's beam rifle opened fire, and at the same instant, all four Death Blossoms bracketed the ZAFT unit and poured energy into the relatively-unarmored recon model.

The concentrated fire from five separate sources engulfed the GINN, leaving nothing behind but a cloud of gas and energy.

* * *

AUthor's Notes: ... why yes, it _has_ been exactly two years and six months since this story was last updated.

Not much can be said about the delays, except that I eventually dropped out of college and have been working for the last 2.5 years, pulling some very long and tiring shifts. Still, I'm finally making my inroads towards management, and my workload is starting to decrease so hopefully I'll better able to get back into the string of writings. Having a hard drive crash and then losing the flashdrive i store my work on didn't help either.

Special thanks to Solid and crew for putting yp with me for the last few years and my repeated mentions of working on Chapter 3. Now that this is done, Chapter 4 is in progress and will hopefully come out faster.

Skipping the Artemis section is an experiment I'm making - at this point practically everyone knows what happened in Artemis - and I'm also aware that not much is changing yet in terms of past affecting future; the ripples haven't spread fully through the pond yet, but that is something that I'm intending to show, in several angles...

Anyhow, I think that's it from me. Till next time!


	4. Chapter 4: Princess of the PLANTS

Disclaimer: Gundam SEED is the property of Sunrise and Bandai. Kenneth DiFalco, Sophia DiFalco and the Gray Demons are the creation of Solid Shark, used with permission. The TRVF-X51A Fianna's original form is the creation of Shoji Kawamori. The _Odin_ is the creation of Deathzealot, used with kind permission. The character of Saito is the original creation of Masamune Shirow and Production I.G. About the only thing I own is this idea, the Seburo M-11 pistol, and Jack David. This is a nonprofit fanfiction, written merely to entertain.

With thanks to Solid Shark, who allowed this stab at an AU retelling of _Birds of a Feather_.

* * *

Debris Belt, Ruins of Junius Seven

* * *

In an eye blink, the GINN was gone, and three eyes stared at where it had been: Kira's two, and Falcon's one. They were both quite oblivious to the radio calls from the shuttle they had just rescued.

"Thanks, guys," Kuzzey called, sounding as though all the blood in his body had been replaced by adrenaline.

"We owe you one," Chandra added. "Thanks."

_"Hey!"_ Mu called from the_ Archangel. "What happened?"_

Kira shut off his receiver, refusing to hear anything at all, and pounded his fists against his displays. _"Why?"_ he shouted, unheard in his cockpit.

Falcon, however, shook himself and keyed his microphone. "Falcon here, Mu. It's okay; we had a GINN come out to play, but we got it." _Two more of my comrades dead, _he thought bitterly. _How many more must die before this war is ended?_ "Didn't have much of a choice," he went on. "It saw the shuttle, so we couldn't let it leave. I could've tried a disabling shot, but there wasn't time..."

_"That's how it is in war, Falcon, you know that,"_ the Hawk said quietly._ "You knew the day you took over that machine that you'd have to fight, and even kill, your comrades; don't flip out on me now."_

"Not to worry, Mu," Falcon replied, voice steady. "If the Bloody Valentine didn't break me, nothing will. Doesn't mean I like it, though."

_"True. How's the kid?"_

The ace glanced at the motionless Strike, and shook his head. "I don't know. His radio's shut off, and his machine isn't moving; beyond that, I haven't the slightest idea."

_"I see."_ Mu sighed._ "Well, that should be the last load of ice; once it's aboard, you should get back here, too, and then if the kid's still in a funk we'll figure a way to get him back."_

"Roger that."

Kira, meanwhile, finally looked up through blurry eyes, as something on his instrument panel beeped. "Huh...? What a minute, that's a lifepod... But what's it doing out here, in the Debris Belt?"

Not thinking to tell anyone what he was up to, he guided his machine toward the source of the distress signal.

_

* * *

Archangel, _Hanger

* * *

"Hey Murdoch, what's the ruckus?" called Jack from his Fianna's cockpit, rubbing his aching eyes. Among the advantages cyberbrains conferred to users, both Natural and Coordinator, was that with the right software and training, a pilot could directly plug into his mobile suit's computer, allowing him to debug his OS faster by virtue of a direct connection, rather than manual typing on a keyboard. Unfortunately he couldn't do that right now or he'd have to answer some uncomfortable questions, such as how he had a device that didn't exist yet.

"The Kid found a lifepod and he's bringing it in!" called the burly Chief Mechanic. "We're getting ready to crack it open once he gets here."

_:: Probably Lacus Clyne's pod, ::_ cybercommed Snow, eyes intent on his own diagnostics.

_:: I'll stand by, :: _remarked Saito; ever watchful, as befitting a sniper, discretely assembling his Seburo C-26A PDW inside his cockpit; the sniper rifle would be too cumbersome in close quarters.

_:: Right. Jack, float out and run interference, ::_ ordered Saito.

_:: What interference? I'm up to my eyeballs in code here! ::_

_:: Major's landing and he'll have questions. ::_

_:: Why me? ::_ asked the intelligence officer sourly.

_:: You mutinied. ::_ Even over the cyberbrain-to-cyberbrain communications, Snow's smirk was audible.

* * *

After the Strike dragged its cargo back to the _Archangel,_ the officers, volunteers, Snow Team and several of the crew gathered in front of the lifepod while Murdoch worked at its hatch controls.

Natarle shook her head in a mixture of exasperation and rueful amusement. "You sure have a talent for retrieving things other people have left behind," she told Kira. "Maybe you should join the Junk Guild."

Kira blinked, but said nothing; his attention was focused on the lifepod.

"Any idea who's in that thing?" Mu said to Falcon, _sotto voce._

"A notion," the pilot acknowledged. "I know who _used_ to use the ship this thing came from; but things may have changed, and even if they haven't, she might not be the one in that pod." His hand rested idly on the hilt of his katana, and his eye was wary.

"'She'?" Mu asked.

"I should get an autograph," mused Jack. "Naomi would be thrilled."

Mu looked at him, seeking an answer and not finding one. "Okay," Murdoch called. "I think I've got it; stand back, everybody."

The only change among the assembled men and women was the security men raising their rifles, Saito sighting in on the lifepod hatch, and Falcon imperceptibly tightening his grip on his sheathed blade. They were ready for whatever might come out of there... or so they thought.

The hatch opened, and to the utter bemusement of everyone present, a pink ball floated out, muttering unintelligibly at the world in general.

The officers looked at each other in confusion, then turned almost as one to Falcon; but the ex-ZAFT ace was just as confused as they were. _What the devil is that?_

Then their gazes snapped back to the lifepod, as a voice spoke. "Thank you! Your assistance is very much appreciated!"

They stared as a pink-haired teenage girl drifted out of the pod... and Commander Kenneth DiFalco instinctively snapped to attention, right hand coming up in an automatic salute.

Mu glanced at him in surprise. "You know her, Falcon?" he whispered.

"I ought to," the pilot replied, just as quietly. "She personally presented the Order of the Nebula to me."

His older brother drew back in surprise, and then both their gazes were drawn back to the pink-haired girl, whose uncontrolled movement through the air had been arrested by Kira, who caught hold of her hand.

"Thank you," she said, with a grateful smile; then she turned to look at the assembled crew. It didn't take long for her eyes to come to a rest on the one man present who wore an eyepatch.

Before she could determine why he looked familiar, Falcon lowered the salute. "Hello, Miss Lacus," he said quietly. "It's been... some time." He bowed slightly. "I realize the uniform is a bit different these days, but I believe you may remember me."

Lacus Clyne gasped. "Commander DiFalco! I'd heard you were missing!" She glanced around again. "So, this is a ZAFT vessel?"

Falcon winced; he wasn't looking forward to the explanations that would surely be asked of him... and her, he could not refuse to answer. "No, Miss Lacus, I'm afraid it isn't. I'm afraid it's a very long story, but this ship belongs to the Earth Forces."

Now she was clearly confused. "Umm... may I ask what's going on?"

"He's right," Kira told her. "But you're safe now. Uh... welcome."

Natarle covered her eyes with one hand. _Oh, things just keep getting better and better. First a Coordinator turns up piloting the Strike, then he brings his friends along for the ride; after that, a famous ZAFT ace joins us and professes to be trying to secure victory for the _PLANTs._ Now _this_ girl turns up, and only Commander DiFalco knows who she is. Ugh._

Mu looked at his brother. "Just what is going on here, Falcon?"

"She's Lacus Clyne, Mu," Falcon replied. "As in _Siegel_ Clyne. She's his daughter, and one of the most respected figures in the PLANTs. I know her, slightly; as I said, she presented the Order of the Nebula to me, and as I recall, a member of my team was being considered for her bodyguard contingent."

Murrue finally shook herself out of the semi-stupor Lacus' appearance had put her in. "Ahem. Miss... Miss Clyne, would you please join me in my office, along my officers?"

Lacus nodded readily. "Yes, of course. I imagine we have a great deal to discuss." She looked over at the one-eyed pilot. "I would ask that Commander DiFalco be present, as well."

The Captain turned to Falcon, and, when he raised no objection, she nodded. "Very well. The rest of you, back to your duties. Chief Neumann, you have the Bridge."

"Aye, Ma'am." It was technically unusual for a noncommissioned officer to hold the watch, but since _Archangel_ had a grand total of three officers -at least, three _Earth Forces_ officers- due allowances were made.

As they began to make their way out of the hanger, Mu turned to Falcon. "So which member of your team was being considered for that assignment? Did I ever run into him?"

"Once," the pilot acknowledged. "At least, once that I can recall with certainty. His name's Lance Cooper, but everybody calls him Sparky; he was my XO, at Endymion and a couple of other places."

The Hawk raised an eyebrow. "Why do people call him Sparky?"

He could have sworn there was the faintest shadow of a smile on Falcon's face. "That's a long, interesting, and amusing story, Mu. Remind me to tell you sometime, when we're not as busy."

"Right..." _Sparky, huh? I bet that's quite the tale... I'm glad I never faced the guy directly; if he was a Gray Demon, and the XO, he wouldn't have been a pushover. Falcon didn't choose weaklings for _his_ team._

* * *

As the small party departed for the Captain's office, Jack watched them leave and sighed longingly, an action that did not go unnoticed by Snow.

"No Jack, you are not allowed to ask her for an autograph."

"It's taken me years to work up my courage and now you stand in my way? Oh traitorous friend! You who I called my brother. How could you betray me so? Are my desires nought but ash to you? Do you not feel the cry of my heart's desire?"

Snow ignored his theatrics, choosing instead to resume typing on his tablet computer.

"Do you really want Snow to answer that?" asked Saito amusedly. "You know he's gonna shoot you down.

"Point," acknowledged Jack, sighing with resignation. "So close yet so far...'

"Done yet?" asked Snow, eyebrow raised meaningfully.

"Just getting started with my rant," replied Jack, blithely.

"Wrong answer."

_

* * *

Nacht Jaeger, _Bridge

* * *

Victor Tempest, alias Huckebein the Raven, sat in his chair, thinking, while his ship's captain conferred with the radio operator. _So, my orders are to kill Commander DiFalco... That suits me just fine. After all, _he_ killed_ me,_ last year... time to pay back that old debt. I'd have done it anyway, but his treason makes it more... legitimate. It'll be easier to explain to the Council, since they ordered it._

In actual fact, his orders were to, if at all possible, _capture_ the Grimaldi Falcon. But after being run through by his former commander, Huckebein had every intention of ensuring it was _not_ possible. He held grudges for a very long time... and, unbeknownst to his superiors or even himself, his mental stability was gradually eroding.

Captain Kreitzman finally looked up. "We've got a mission redirect, Commander," he announced.

Huckebein looked up. "We do? What might that be, Captain?"

"According to the message, it's only temporary, Sir," Kreitzman assured him. "But it seems Miss Lacus Clyne has gone missing, and we're to help look for her. Once her fate has been determined, we're to return to our original mission."

"I see." Behind the mask, Victor Tempest's single remaining eye narrowed, and his fist clenched unconsciously. "Is there anything else?"

"Yes, Commander. We're to rendezvous with the _Vesalius,_ also on the search, and conduct operations in concert with her."

"I see," he said again. "Very well, inform the homeland that we acknowledge, and set a course to link up with _Vesalius."_

"Yes, Sir."

Tempest grimaced. On the subject of Rau Le Creuset, he and his old commander were in agreement. He hadn't been present for the disaster at Endymion -he'd been in intensive care, after getting his heart replaced- but he'd met the man before, and found him, among other things, decidedly creepy.

_Great,_ he thought in disgust._ Not only must settling the old score wait, not only did I miss him thanks to that kid Joule, but I have to operate with Rau Le Creuset. Oh, this is just a _wonderful_ day._

_

* * *

Archangel,_ Captain's Office

* * *

"So you're really Siegel Clyne's daughter?" Mu asked, still a little off-balance.

Lacus nodded. "Yes, I am. You've heard of my father, then?"

The Hawk darted an incredulous glance at Falcon, but his brother merely shrugged eloquently; apparently this apparent naiveté was not unusual for the girl.

_Though of course,_ Falcon thought to himself,_ I've always thought there was more to her than met the eye... and as that briefing packet showed, in another timeline at least, she was well aware of the realities of the world and war.  
_

"Yes, we have," Murrue said, in answer to Lacus' question. "After all, the Earth Forces makes a habit of keeping an eye on what the PLANTs have to say." That was true enough; but Headquarters did it largely because they were waiting for the "so-called" Supreme Council to announce their surrender. _I Hope they're not holding their breath,_ she mused. _ZAFT still has the advantage in battle strength... and if Falcon's cryptic hints are any indication, they have some kind of master plan for victory._

"So," Natarle asked, "just what were you doing all the way out _here,_ of all places? I'd have thought someone like you would be in the PLANTs; this _is_ a war, after all."

Lacus nodded solemnly. "Yes, I know. And that's why I'm out here. Commander DiFalco, I believe, is already aware of my mission-" she received a minuscule nod from the pilot "-but I suppose others would not. I was sent out here for the preliminaries of a proper Bloody Valentine memorial ceremony. As you know, the anniversary is only eleven days from now."

"Yes," Falcon whispered. "We know."

"So how did you come to be in an escape pod?" Mu's brow furrowed. "I mean, if your ship had just encountered debris, one would think there'd be more lifepods out there."

Lacus sighed. "While we were beginning our survey, an Earth Forces vessel came alongside us, and demanded that we let them board for some kind of inspection. I saw no harm in it, since we had nothing to hide, so I permitted it. But... they wouldn't believe we were unarmed. The leader kept insisting we were a ZAFT vessel, and finally the arguing led to shooting, and a crew member shoved me into a lifepod. After that, I merely drifted until your machine found me." She looked anxiously at the deck. "I do hope that everything has calmed down, and that everyone is all right."

Falcon may have acted like an emotionless killing machine, but there was a heart, buried deep beneath the facade; and so he elected, for now, not to burden the "Princess of the PLANTs" with the knowledge that _Silverwind_ had been reduced to scrap.

He exchanged glances with Murrue, who finally nodded. "I see. Well, Miss Lacus, I'm sorry to hear about what happened; I'd be the first to admit that... not everyone in the Earth Forces is disposed towards giving PLANT delegations the benefit of the doubt. However, you'll have no such trouble from us; if for no other reason than the fact that Falcon has vouched for you. Now, I'm afraid it would be impractical at best to return you to ZAFT territory at this point, but I promise I'll do everything in my power to get you repatriated as soon as possible."

Lacus smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Captain."

"And now..." The Captain glanced at Falcon. "I'd like to offer you our ship's hospitality, until such time as you can be repatriated. Falcon here will escort you to guest quarters - assuming, of course, you have no objection, Falcon."

The pilot shook his head. "Not at all. I believe Miss Lacus and I have some things to discuss anyway."

_

* * *

Archangel,_ Guest Quarters

* * *

"I must admit, Commander DiFalco," Lacus said, some minutes later, "that I was quite surprised to see you aboard this ship. When you were declared Absent Without Leave, it was assumed that the stress had finally caught up with you; that you'd snapped, and-"

"And suicided," Falcon finished. "Yes, I know. Don't look so surprised, Miss Lacus; I still have my ways of getting information from the PLANTs, though my contacts regrettably don't have access to certain information." He shrugged. "I'm not surprised they came to that conclusion, after Junius Seven, Endymion, and the... project I was working on when I took my leave."

"I see." Her eyes narrowed with an uncharacteristic intensity. "But you know, if I was surprised to find you alive, I was even more surprised to learn you were on an Earth Forces vessel, fighting alongside them. They're obviously good people... but I would never have imagined you would willingly fight against ZAFT."

"Times change, Miss Lacus, and so do people." He idly fingered the hilt of his sword. "I cannot and will not give you all the details; I still have some respected for classifications, and I will not burden anyone else with my knowledge. But I swear to you, on my honor -or at least what's left of it- that I have _never_ betrayed the PLANTs. Circumstances -and Committee Chairman's Zala policies- have forced me into opposition to ZAFT, but even now, everything I do is for the sake of the PLANTs."

"I don't understand." Lacus frowned. "What policies? What circumstances?"

"I can't tell you that." _Great,_ he griped at himself. _How in the world do you intend to convince her you're still fighting for the PLANTs when you can't even tell her why you left ZAFT?_ "Okay," Falcon said finally. "Let me ask you something: do you know a fellow named Lance Cooper?"

She nodded. "Commander Cooper? Of course; he heads my family's bodyguard now, and has since a little after you left."

He nodded to himself. "Sparky made commander? That's good; he deserved it, though I imagine some will regard him with a certain amount of suspicion, now that my whereabouts are known. Anyway, when you get back to the PLANTs, I suggest you talk to him; what I _can_ say, he can verify, and he might even be in a better position to explain why I acted as I did, Miss Lacus."

Lacus made a snap decision then. _This is the Grimaldi Falcon, and he appears sane enough; if anyone can be trusted, he can._

"Please," she said aloud, "just call me Lacus. If you are no longer a commander, then I see no reason to stand on ceremony. Besides," she added with a smile, "it will make conversation less of a chore."

It amazed Falcon that Lacus was so much at ease, despite his basilisk act; on the other hand, now that he thought about it, she'd known him before he took on the emotionless facade, and however naive she might appear, she knew people. She could probably read him like an open book.

"Thank you," he said simply. "It _is_ a little cumbersome, speaking that way. Anyway, here is what I _can_ tell you: Committee Chairman Zala's policies are leading us someplace we do not want to go; a place of ruin, beyond belief."

Lacus gazed at him intently. "Are you saying ZAFT will lose this war?"

"No." Falcon shook his head emphatically. "The Revolution has already succeeded, Lacus; even had the Earth Forces kept all six prototypes, I don't think it could be stopped, in the end. But it is my belief Zala desires more than mere victory. I believe he desires the extinction of all Naturals."

She gasped. "You can't be serious!"

"Believe me, I wish I wasn't. But you forget, I grew to know the man well in the last few months I was with ZAFT; after the Bloody Valentine, he grew obsessed, and now the independence of the PLANTs is no longer enough for him."

Lacus shook her head. "But he can't possibly have the capability to do that. The Naturals are so numerous there's no way we could destroy all of them, even if we wanted to."

Falcon closed his eye. "I wish, Lacus. I really do. And you're right, ZAFT _doesn't_ have the capability to commit such mass genocide... yet. But they're working on it, and it's only a matter of time before they succeed; probably not even very much time, now that they have the four Earth Forces G-weapons to play with. If their engineers are as good as I remember, they'll be able to reverse engineer the machines' capabilities within a couple of months, and then build on the new discoveries; once they do that, nothing can stop the final weapon from becoming a reality."

She began to think that if this kept up, she'd get a headache. _Just what is he talking about?_ she wondered. _Final weapon? Athrun's father attempting genocide? What does it all mean?_

"I don't understand," she said aloud. "What weapon could possibly accomplish that?"

"Nothing that works right now," Falcon admitted. "But think about it: enough nuclear weapons could blast the entire planet back into the Stone Age, and if you synthesized, oh, a few tons of antimatter -which is _not_ out of the question, assuming you have access to nuclear powerplants- you could blow up Earth quite nicely." He shook his head. _Idiot; you're talking too much._

_Symptom of the situation,_ a part of his mind replied._ You've gotten so used to worrying about doomsday weapons you start to ramble about them; not a good thing for someone trying to keep up certain appearances._

"Look," he said finally. "I realize this sounds unbelievable -six months ago, _I_ wouldn't have believed it, either- and I probably shouldn't say anything more, either. In fact, I've probably said too much. So I have to ask you to trust me; remember my actions since the Mandelbrot Incident in 68, and decide, here and now, if I can be trusted."

Lacus fully realized, then, that Ken DiFalco was being deadly serious. Behind the emotionless facade, he was absolutely terrified of something... and that something had driven him to abandon everything he once held dear, even to fight and kill his own comrades and friends in order to achieve whatever mad objective he had set himself.

He now walked a lonely road, one where he had to keep his eyes open, for his friend of yesterday had become his enemy today, and his enemy had become his only friend. He foresaw a calamity no one else did, which put him, and him alone, in a position to do something about it.

This was a driven man, Lacus realized. Obsessed, perhaps; and, just possibly, beginning to walk the road toward madness, as he faced his lonely journey. But he had set himself a task, of protecting that which he held most dear, and he would not swerve from it, even if the path ended with him lying dead in the dusty battlefields, remembered only as a traitor. _He'd accept that,_ Lacus thought, _if only he achieved his goal first. And now, all he asks is my trust... and if I give it to him, perhaps his burden may be eased..._

"All right, Commander," she said at last. "I trust you. What is it that you need of me? I'll help in any way I can."

Falcon seemed to sag in relief; clearly, he was under a great deal more stress than was apparent. "For now, Lacus," he said wearily, "there's nothing you can do; not while you're stuck aboard the _Archangel._ But when you leave... I may have some data to send with you, and all I ask in that event is that you get it to Sparky; he'll know what to do with it from there."

"I'll do what I can," Lacus promised. "I don't understand exactly what's going on, but you are clearly still the good person you always were, Commander; if you say there is danger, I believe you."

He seemed to sag even further. "Thank you."

_

* * *

Archangel, _Corridor

* * *

When Falcon finally left Lacus' quarters, it was with every intention of heading straight to his and getting some rest. He hadn't felt this tired since basic training, years before.

Mu spotted him along the way. "Hey, Falcon! You look beat; have an interesting time with the Pink Princess back there?"

Falcon sighed. "Mu," he began, in a voice that sounded only slightly different from his usual tonelessness, "I will tolerate a great many things from people. But I will not tolerate bad puns or constant innuendo and double entendres. I suggest you take heed, before I am forced to try something drastic."

The Hawk smiled. "Like what?"

Falcon gazed at him tiredly. "You _do_ know what happens when sharp steel meets human flesh, don't you?"

Mu winced, remembering his brother's reputation with a sword. "Right. Well, anyway, I was hoping I'd run into you; I've got something for you." He took a bundle from under his arm, and tossed it over.

The ex-ZAFT ace caught it, and unfolded it. It was a gray trench coat, with feathers on the collar, and no insignia. "A trench coat," he murmured, too tired to say anything other than the obvious. "Why?"

Mu grinned. "Hey, the Grimaldi Falcon ain't the Grimaldi Falcon without his idiosyncrasies, now is he? Kira mentioned you used to wear one on Heliopolis, and it seems to be MIA; besides, I know you don't like being seen in public in Earth Forces uniform, so I had Murdoch's people put that together, from stores. After all, we're not exactly short on _uniform_ material."

Nodding absently, Falcon pulled on the coat, and noted it covered his sword, as his old one had. "Thanks," he said quietly. "My former coat, the one I wore while I was still with the Gray Demons, got incinerated on Heliopolis, during the attack; I'll admit I haven't felt quite right without it." He wearily shook his head. "If you'll excuse me, Mu, I really need some rest; it's been a long few months."

"Yeah, sure. Oh, by the way, the Captain'll want you on the Bridge when you're awake; now that we have supplies, we need to plan our next move."

"Roger that."

Falcon stumbled off to his quarters, feeling severely blitzed. Once inside, he collapsed on the bunk, not even bothering to remove the trench coat.

As the fog of sleep filled his mind, a trace of memory came to him, from what felt like a lifetime ago. _"You've gone too far, Patrick. Too far!"_

_

* * *

"How is the project going, Falcon?" National Defense Committee Chairman Patrick Zala asked, sounding slightly distracted; sitting at his desk, he was also perusing intelligence reports._

_"On schedule, Patrick," Commander Kenneth DiFalco responded; he was one of a very small number of people on a first-name basis with Zala, having climbed from obscurity as an "average" pilot to being one of the most influential men in ZAFT, despite his absurdly young age. "Though you do realize that, until the N-jammer cancellers are developed, this machine is nothing more than a gigantic waste of funds."_

_"We've been over that before," Zala replied patiently (far more patiently than he would have answered anyone else, but then Falcon's contributions to the war made him a man worth listening to). "We've made their development a crash priority project. It's only a matter of time before we have them, and in the meantime, there's no sense in wasting time by waiting on constructing that weapon."_

_"True," Falcon conceded. "And we can use the time to refine the design even more, particularly if the rumors about the Earth Forces' new breakthroughs is correct, and we can acquire samples of the technology. But for now, it's nothing more than a spaceborne collection of metal, mirrors, and utterly useless fissionable material."_

_"You can't deny the potential of that weapon, Falcon; and it _was_ you that devised the basic strategies for its use."_

_"Granted. And, to be sure, I'll sleep more soundly once we have something that can truly defend the PLANTs from an Earth Forces attack." The pilot's face hardened. "There will never be another Junius Seven, if there's anything_ I_ can say about it."_

_"Agreed," Zala said, voice as hard as his subordinate's expression. "We cannot forgive them for the Bloody Valentine... ever."_

_Falcon's head jerked up, as something in his superior's voice set off warning bells in his mind. "Just what plan _are_ you using for GENESIS' deployment, Patrick?" he said slowly._

_Zala handed him a folder. "Take a look, Falcon; and if you have any refinements to make to your old battle plan, now might be the time."_

_The pilot glanced through the files, face at first impassive... then increasingly alarmed. "You can't be serious!" he blurted, at the end. "That goes far beyond anything we ever discussed with the Council, Patrick!"_

_Patrick, who had lost his wife Lenore in the Bloody Valentine, shrugged. "Since when do we discuss every aspect of the campaigns with the politicians? You know as well as I what political micro-managing does to a war effort; weren't you the one who used the example of the Vietnam War, at the start of the war?" That had been in an intra-ZAFT paper Falcon had written, before he gained notoriety._

_"Yes, I was, but this...!" Falcon threw down the campaign strategy and stared at Zala. "You can't possibly be suggesting we use it on _any_ civilian population center, let alone-!"_

_"Now is not the time for sensitivity, Falcon, and you know it as well as I." The Committee Chairman looked coldly at his top strategist. "This is why you were transferred from the frontlines, Falcon; this project has to be completed, and you're the only one who is both familiar with the mechanism's design and fully trustworthy that I can put in charge of it. And it's not as if I intend to use it at all unless I have a choice, so go do your duty."_

_Commander Kenneth "Grimaldi Falcon" DiFalco, soldier of the Revolution, continued to stare at Zala, as he began to realize just what truly lay behind Patrick's eyes._ He may claim to consider it a last resort,_ he realized in a flash,_ but after the Bloody Valentine, he's determined to make it a necessity... and I gave him the tools to do it.

_Falcon clenched his fists. "You've gone too far, Patrick. Too far!" Without another word, he stalked out of the office._

_The date was September 20, C.E. 70. The next day, the Grimaldi Falcon vanished, leaving chaos in his wake as lesser strategists and engineers attempted to fill the void created by his absence, and taking with him crucial data, massive guilt, and a brilliant mind._

_The Earth Alliance had already lost, from a practical standpoint. The Revolution was already won. But now, Patrick Zala, by driving Kenneth DiFalco to treason, unknowingly set ZAFT upon the path that would lead to their ruin._

* * *

Aprilius One, Patrick Zala's Office

* * *

Patrick Zala remembered that day well. It was, unfortunately, the first sign he'd had that Falcon was no longer reliable; they'd never had such a disagreement on policy before.

_My fault for investing too much trust in him too soon,_ he thought ironically._ I should have remembered that his sister's a Natural; maybe then I would have been prepared for this._

Falcon's desertion, while startling, had not induced much more than anger and disgust in Zala. News of his defection to the Earth Forces, though... _that_ scared him. He didn't think the traitor knew how to circumvent his own plans, fortunately; and even if he did, Zala considered it unlikely that the Earth Forces would trust him far enough to act on the information. But his knowledge of the final option was another matter entirely. That, along with his sheer brilliance, both in piloting and planning, made him a great threat to ZAFT's goals.

Yes, the man was brilliant; only Andrew Waltfeld came even close to matching him, and his insistence on carrying out his own plans, sharing the risks with the troops, made him _very_ popular with his people.

There was, however, one former Gray Demon who hated Falcon's guts, and Zala was counting on Victor "Huckebein" Tempest to get the job done... as soon as he finished the search for Lacus Clyne. Once that was accomplished, Falcon's days would be... well, if not numbered, then at least in grave danger.

At any rate, there was no chance of Falcon intervening in the next operation. The plans Zala was looking over now were for an upcoming assault on Africa's Victoria Spaceport, to complete Operation Uroboros' initial objective at last. Interestingly, it was Falcon himself who had crafted this plan... as well as another that would be set into motion as soon as it received approval from the Supreme Council, which Zala was confident it would within a month, or perhaps two.

_By then,_ he thought,_ Falcon should no longer be a factor. Perhaps he'll be kind enough to take Huckebein with him; the man is becoming a liability..._

_

* * *

Archangel, _Cafeteria

* * *

Tolle walked into the cafeteria, and found himself right in the midst of an argument. _Huh?_ he thought, seeing Mir and Flay matching wills. _What's going on here?_

"Look, Flay," Mir was saying, "all I'm asking is-"

"No!" Flay said vehemently. "I don't want to go anywhere _near_ that girl!"

Tolle sidled over to Kuzzey. "Okay, I give," he said in a low voice. "Just what in the world are they arguing about? Who's 'that girl'?"

"Lacus Clyne," Kuzzey replied quietly. "Miriallia asked Flay to take a meal to her, but Flay refuses. She sounds like she's scared."

"Of _what?"_

Mir now tried a different tack. "What's the problem, anyway? All I'm asking is for you to take a meal to her; what's wrong with that?"

"I'm scared," Flay replied bluntly. "She's a Coordinator, from the PLANTs! What if tries to attack me?"

"And _why_ would she do that?" Mir demanded. "She's not military, Flay; even if she _did_ attack you, what good would it do? Besides, Falcon vouches for her."

"Is that supposed to reassure me?" Flay retorted. "Falcon's a ZAFT pilot-"

_"Former_ ZAFT," Tolle muttered under his breath.

"-and he used to fly against Lieutenant La Flaga. Are you trying to tell me we can trust _him?"_

Mir's eyes flashed dangerously. "Don't you ever talk about him like that again, Flay Allster! Falcon has this worse than any of us, you know. _We_ may have lost Heliopolis, but in case you didn't hear, Falcon's from Junius Seven; _and_ he had to give up everything he knew to do what he knew was right! And if you still doubt him, remember that he killed two of his former teammates on Heliopolis, which isn't something a ZAFT spy would do!"

Tolle and Kuzzey stared at her, startled by her vehemence, while Flay physically recoiled. "Still..." the red-haired girl said stubbornly. "We don't really know anything about her; what if she's really strong or something?"

"My," said another voice, "who's really strong?"

Flay spun around, to find herself face-to-face with Lacus Clyne herself. "Wha-?"

Kira entered a couple of steps behind the pink princess. "What are you doing here?" he asked, surprised.

"I was hungry," Lacus replied, "and there was no one around, so I decided to come here myself; I did _try_ to get someone's attention, but..." She shrugged, and turned to Flay. "My name is Lacus Clyne, by the way," she said, extending her hand.

Tolle had merely thought Flay recoiled from Mir's words. Her reaction this time was far worse. "Stay away!" she shouted, jerking backwards. "Don't get anywhere near me!"

"I don't understand," Lacus said, confused. "There's nothing to be afraid of; I'm not in the military, you know..."

"Why should I trust a Coordinator?" Flay demanded. "Just stay away! I don't want any of your Coordinators acting friendly with me!"

The room was a frozen tableau for several moments, until Kira finally touched Lacus' arm. "I think maybe I should take you back to your quarters," he suggested quietly. He had an ulterior motive: _he_ didn't want to be around Flay in this kind of mood, either, and her words had badly shaken him.

"Yes, of course," Lacus murmured, still puzzled, and allowed Kira to show her out.

Mir promptly stormed out as well; Tolle wasn't sure if she was more irritated by Flay's reaction to Lacus, or her slur against Falcon's integrity. Either way, she was in a most foul mood.

Flay, meanwhile, glared at the bulkhead in silence, while Tolle and Kuzzey looked on.

Finally, the black-haired volunteer ventured a few words. "Flay... that sounded like something from Blue Cosmos. Are you...?"

"I am _not_ a member of Blue Cosmos!" she snapped back. "But the stance those people take... I don't think they're entirely wrong. Having your genes operated on when you're not sick or anything... it goes against what Nature intended." She scowled. "That Falcon guy is an example; something about him always gives me the creeps."

Tolle wondered about that. He, too, had noticed something strange about the one-eyed pilot, his cool and unflappable manner even in the most dire of situations... and that eyepatch of his always unsettled him somehow...

_

* * *

Archangel,_ Bridge, February 2nd, C.E. 71

* * *

"Man, oh man..." Mu murmured, drifting near the starboard bulkhead. "We solve the problem of the supplies, then get another in the form of the pink princess. Wonders never cease, eh?"

"Unfortunately," Murrue said dryly. "I wouldn't want her to still be out there, stuck in a lifepod in the Debris Belt, but I must confess I could have done quite happily without this complication."

"Agreed," Falcon said quietly. He had tucked himself into a corner, wrapped in his new trench coat; Sophia had commented it was the first time since he'd come aboard that he hadn't looked like some kind of space alien to her. As near as he could determine, she meant it looked natural on him.

He was still trying to decide if it had been a compliment, though.

"Now we just need to figure out what to do with her," Sophia mused, pensive. "I mean, no offense, my friend," she said to Murrue, "but _Archangel_'s pretty unusual, when it comes to the crew's attitudes toward Coordinators. Most crews would happily slit her throat, just for being what she is."

Murrue frowned. "I think you're being unduly pessimistic, Sophia."

"No, she's not," Natarle broke in. "If anything, she's understating the matter. I don't know if Blue Cosmos actually has any official involvement in running this war, but there's no denying their attitudes have spread far and wide throughout the military. Someone like Lacus Clyne..."

"...They'd welcome with open arms," Mu finished for her. "Don't look at me like that, Ensign. Just think about it: she's the daughter of the Chairman of the PLANT Supreme Council; you bring her to Ptolemaeus, and Headquarters will fall all over themselves making her at home... for propaganda purposes, of course."

"I don't want her to go through that," Murrue said pensively. "She's just a teenage girl, with no connection to the war effort at all; she doesn't deserve to be put through something like that."

"I agree," Falcon told her, "but you're wrong on one count: she has a great deal to do with the war effort. Believe me, I know, from my days in ZAFT: she is probably the best morale-building tool they have." He rubbed his eyepatch. "Though I'd hesitate to call her a 'tool' in the first place; she may seem naive at times, but she's got a sharp mind in there, no mistake."

She nodded. "Agreed. But I still don't want her, a young civilian, to get caught up in all this..."

"So what about those students?" Natarle asked. "They've helped with the operation of the ship, and even fought with us in battle, yet they too are just young civilians."

"One difference, Ensign," Falcon said quietly. "They volunteered."

Those two, simple words effectively put an end to _that_ line of reasoning, and silence fell for a time.

It was finally interrupted by Pal's sudden grunt of surprise and rapid typing at the communications station. "Captain!" he called. "We're receiving a coded message; it's definitely from the Eighth Fleet. No doubt about it!"

Mu and Murrue quickly moved to his side. "You're right," the Captain said, suddenly feeling hopeful. "That's from the _Montgomery,_ Captain Koopman's ship!"

Sophia perked up. "Koopman? I've served with him. Not brilliant, but-"

"But not stupid, either." Falcon nodded. "I fought against him at Jachin. I don't think he's very bright, but I've encountered dumber."

Murrue wasn't sure if that was intended to be a compliment, but suddenly she didn't care. At last, for the first time since Heliopolis -Artemis didn't really count, given what had happened there- they'd received word from friendly forces.

Things were beginning to look up at last.

* * *

"Campfire!" called Snow, waving his arm in the hand signal that meant "rally on me". Saito and Jack left their cockpits and pushed off, floating towards their flight lead. "Status?"

"I've adjusted the gunpod software for all birds as best as I can, based off my Caladbolg," reported Saito. "It should work, but you'll probably need to aim by eye as much as your targeting systems. I can install it anytime."

"Intake guns _should_ work as advertised," said Jack. "Of course with _our_ luck they'll miss like nobody's business. Recommend single-shot instead of double-fire. Probably end up running with the cyberbrains on instead of autistic mode. Then again I fly better in autistic mo- Damnit Saito!" he yelped.

"Stay focused," rebuked Snow gently, as Saito switched off the laser designator he'd shone at Jack's neck. "Continue."

Jack scowled with indignation, taking a deep breath to calm himself. "Installation can only happen after Saito does the gunpod fix; after I patch I'll need to run a diagnostic, though you'll need a testflight and a testfire to really work out the kinks. Manual aiming override remains go incase it goes tits up again."

"Noted," murmured Snow, jotting down their reports. "Micromissile pods remain safed and stored – it'll take us too long to get the software fixed and we'll need them later anyway. Rendezvous with the Advance Force is in several hours."

"Not enough time to patch and testfly," remarked Saito. "It could get rough."

"We've faced worse," replied Snow. "Jack. Anything you want to say?"

"How do you know we're rendezvousing with the Advance Force?"

Snow merely smiled and displayed his tablet computer; Jack glanced at the A4-sized screen that displayed hacked bridge security camera feeds and scowled.

"Smartass. I thought _I _was the intelligence officer."

"I hum the tune and dance a few steps," says Marcus Snow, closing the display. "Let's roll."

* * *

Author's Notes: and thus comes another Chapter of March to the Future. In a way I'm rather gratified it's come out relatively soon, and only a week or two short of the 3-year anniversary of this project!

Savvy readers will note that very little has yet been changed. This was something that I pondered with to a fair degree; one of the things one feels a need to do when writing a time-travel story is for one's heroes to be micromanaging the situation and gaming it to provide the best outcome. However at the end of the day, the knowledge of the characters from the future is limited to what they would reasonably be expected to know: being pilots and intelligence officers, the Snow Team would be quite well-versed with the After Action Reports and debriefs of the past years (particularly as our Jack's carrying a few books on BVW1 in his head). Interpersonal relationships, on the other hand... Whole new kettle of fish, that. On another hand, they've still got their own messes to sort out, i.e. the Fianna debug... and it's been less than a week since they've come back to the past. Still, as the Advance Force draws near, and with it the Orbit Battle, things are going to diverge more and more from _BoaF_...

Still, as they say, the more things change the more they stay the same...

And to be honest, despite the Ascended Extras here, this is still very much Falcon's story. If I've pulled it off right, I hope for something similar to Metal Gear Solid 2 and 3; viewing the hero of the story through another character's perspective.

Well, I hope this chapter meets with y'all's approval. Till next time!


End file.
